Sanctum
by La Loba de Mibu
Summary: After being tortured in an experimentation facility for months, Kurt manages to escape with some new friends in tow. But when he returns to the mansion, the Xmen begin to realize that things will never go back to the way they were before.
1. Project RAM

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X-Men: Evolution characters. They are all property of Marvel and I am using them in this story without permission. Don't sue me!! I'm not making a profit!!

**A/N**: Hi everyone!! First of all, let me tell you this story's original title was _**Botanik**_, and had reached eight chapters on this site, by that name. However, after seeing X-3, I was struck by like this divine inspiration, not just from the movie but a ton of sources, and now I'm re-working all the chapters, and adding more. One last thing, the original characters: Anastasia De Latierra, Okkanai Kyoumu, Shinkuu Fuhen, and Rondelle Tordre are (c) ME!! -- _La Loba de Mibu_.

_Prison Uniforms _— I couldn't find an appropriate way to incorporate full descriptions of the characters clothes, so I'll tell ya up front: Kurt's got on long baggy gray pants, and no shirt (Woo hoo!;) — think ultimate x-men; Fuhen's got a sleeveless smock, and same pants as Kurt's; and little Kyoumu is drowning in a long sleeve smock, with gray pants cut off at the knee. OKAY!! On to the story!!

**Notes on Accents: **_**I've gotten several complaints about this, some nice some not so nice. I decided demonstrate the accents in this story because I believe that it greatly affects the verisimilitude of these characters. I'm sorry to those who don't like it, but I won't change it. So here is a guide for you readers to Skim or Skip at will:**_

_French_

**1**—Like in the German accent, the constants '_th_' often become a '_**z**_;' but regardless of this similarity words are pronounced differently. For example: 'the' becomes '_**z**_e' for both German and French accents, however it is pronounced '_**zee'**_ in French, and '_**zeh'**_ in German. 'That' becomes '_**z**_at,' but it is said '_**zet'**_ in French, and '_**z**_-_**ah**_-_**t**_' in German.

**2**—The consonant 'H' in French is silent, so it will often be dropped off of words like he, have, him, her, becoming 'e, 'ave, 'im, and 'er.

3—On a final note, like many French speakers, Cambrant 'hacks' the letter 'R.' There is absolutely no way to depict that in writing, so your imagination will have to do it for you.

_Japanese_

**1**—The '_L_' does not exist in Japanese, so often times the Japanese pronounce it as an '**R**' when speaking foreign languages.

**2**—The letter '_V_' doesn't exist in Japanese either, so it will always change to a '**B**.' Words like '_very_' then become '_**b**_ery.'

**3**—Common consonants that change letters, or sounds: '_th_' can change to '**s,**' or '**fu**.' The letters _'si'_, often become '**sh**.'

_This is based entirely upon my observations over the past four months, on how my Japanese and French instructors, all of whom vary in fluency, speak English; as well as my limited knowledge of the French and Japanese languages._

_—La Loba_

**WARNING**: This chapter contains language, and some fairly graphic physical/verbal abuse scenes; and the story in general deals with abuse. Thus the rating PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you, or you don't like it, then don't read this story.

**Bold**-- telepathically communicated

* * *

**Sanctum**

By: _La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 1: _Project RAM_

The quiet hum emitted from the hard drive of the institute's mainframe seemed almost deafening in the utter silence of the room. The two mutants occupying said room waited with false patience as the machine endlessly scanned the globe for a particular mutant signature. Every once and a while the mainframe's monitor would light upon a potential location before going dark and moving on once again.

The giant blue-furred Beast named Hank McCoy glanced briefly at the huge screen as it lit up once more, sighing when the computer continued its scanning. He rested his chin in his right foot and stared glumly into space, instead of paying attention to the work in front of him. Near the giant Beast, another mutant sat in his wheel chair before the large round table projecting a three dimensional map floating a foot above its surface. The terrains it displayed flashed rapidly by, in synch with the mainframe's scanning. Yet, Professor Charles Xavier paid little attention to the images before him, elbows resting on the low table, hands folded together in front of his face, and eyes closed in silent concentration. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with tension and anxiety.

It had been just over two months since the institute was robbed of one of its most precious residents, and despair was beginning to settle upon the rest of the school's occupants. The mansion had become a desolate place after such a loss. The newest youngsters, who had always seemed to be plagued by mayhem, had become quiet and despondent; while the senior X-men had all but fallen apart. Were it not for the Professor's calm reassurance, quiet faith, and unfailing determination, they would have all probably lost it by now.

Storm had poured so much time and energy into the green house that it had practically turned into a tropical jungle. Logan enjoyed thoroughly trashing the danger room at least twice a day whenever around, or riding off on his motorcycle as early as dawn and not returning until late into the night. Hank had read every book in the mansion's library twice already, and was beginning his third round. Scott had taken sulking to a new level, guilt clearly eating away at him the more time passed by. Cheering up the residents was currently consuming nearly all of Jean's time and effort, fighting desperately to keep everyone's hopes up; because if she didn't, she just might lose her own. Rogue had become thrice as antisocial, morbid, and irritable than usual, withdrawing from everyone's company and disappearing within the mansion for hours at a time. Evan poured his frustration and anxiety into his ever worsening rivalry with Pietro, anything to keep his mind off of the cold empty seat next to him at every mealtime.

But Kitty was by far handling her stress in the very worst way — she'd taken to cooking. Every morning she'd rise before the other students and begin concocting a deadly dish to add to the normal platters found on the breakfast table; in the afternoon, she courteously provided everyone with lethal after-school snacks, then graced the X-men family once more at dinner with another fatal serving. The institute's furry jester was most definitely sorely missed.

The students honestly didn't know what was worse. Knowing whom had captured their fuzzy elf, but not knowing where to find him; or knowing that they were keeping him alive, but only for experimental purposes. The Professor had been working tirelessly to find his abducted student; and although they had discovered and destroyed a number of Mutant experimentation facilities, none of them had contained their teammate. And the more time past by, the more another fear began to grow in the hearts of the X-men. Would their fuzzy elf ever be the same, after being in the clutches of his captors for so long?

"Professor! Cerebro's finally locked on to his mutant signature!" cried the Beast as the large computer screen beside him flickered to life suddenly and began buzzing urgently.

"Where is he?" asked Professor Charles Xavier rolling his wheelchair up next to the giant blue-furred mutant.

"Hmm, looks like . . . he's somewhere in the Rocky Mountains," Hank began tapping at the keys furiously until the map displayed above the round table zoomed in to the highlighted location and displayed more specific information, "It seems to be originating from an old Mountain Ranger facility. It was supposedly condemned, and has been out of use for fifteen years . . . but there was explosion just a few moments ago."

"Cerebro," the Professor ordered the machine after donning the headpiece, "Perform a deep scan of the terrain."

"My God . . ." Beast gasped softly in both horror and fury a few minutes later, as the screen revealed and extensive maze-like network of tunnels and rooms that clearly made up an underground experimentation facility; the largest they had come across by far.

Cerebro suddenly resumed its urgent buzzing as a large red '**X**' marred the map of the facility; an emotionless feminine voice repeatedly announcing: _Facility has been terminated._ Suddenly, the familiar signature flashed briefly once more, along with four other powerful unidentified signatures. The two mutants looked at each other worriedly.

"We must reach him before the authorities arrive on the scene. The organization in charge of the facility will no doubt also send in agents to investigate the explosion. **Storm, please assemble the team immediately. **Hank, I'd like you to go in my stead. I will stay here and use Cerebro to track the signatures, and alert you to the presence of any non-mutants."

Beast nodded solemnly and headed towards the hangers as the Professor turned his efforts to pinpointing the location of their captured teammate as well as the other unidentified mutant signatures.

* * *

A blood curdling shriek echoed loudly in the sterilized halls of the hidden laboratory deep in the Rocky Mountain Range. The metal-plated walls amplified and bounced the awful sound throughout its maze of passages, plunging further and further underground until it finally reached the lowest level and reverberated through the walls of the holding cells. Each time the sound traveled down from the laboratory above, it resounded in the small room, gnawing at the sanity of those held prisoner within. 

There were four cells in total in the parabolic room, one of which was currently empty. Truthfully, they could barely even be labeled cells, as they were more akin to cages than anything else; each shared one barred wall with the next, bordering three sides of the U-shaped room. The two end cages were the only ones that did not connect due to the short passage that divided them, stopping as it reached the doors of the cells nestled in the curve of the parabolic room. The only light that poured into the cells came from two dim fixtures in the ceiling above the passage, which flickered with every tremor that passed through the building.

Voices and loud footfalls from heavy boots could be heard approaching the metal door that sealed off the room from the rest of the laboratory. The occupant of the first cell on the right was stretched out lazily on the metal plank protruding from the wall opposite the cell door; it was _supposed _to serve as a bed. In an equally lazy fashion, she sat up, shifting to face the passage just outside her cell, resting an elbow on the bent knee of a long slim leg, while dangling the other over the edge of the plank. Hunter green eyes held a glint of morbid amusement as they watched the other two captives in the room quickly clamber away from each other, and the wall their cells shared. One disappeared into the shadows that steeped his cell; while the other hurriedly crawled beneath the long metal bed in his own cage. Not a moment after, the door opened with a loud groan revealing two tall uniformed figures.

"Bonsoir _messieurs_, come to 'ave some fun aujourd'hui?" said the female in a saucy tone as the two men stepped into the room. They nodded her way before turning to glance briefly into the cage opposite hers, missing the spitting gesture she made at their backs.

"Hmph, that's funny. I thought for sure they only took two up today," spoke the large burly guard.

Peering carefully into the darkness, and dragging his cattle prod along the bars of the empty cage, he finally stopped in front of the second cage on the left side. The burly man smirked at his buddy beside him, unlocking the cell door, and entering the also seemingly empty cage. Directing their attention toward the captive that they knew was hiding underneath, they failed to notice the gleaming pair of yellow eyes hovering in the shadows just below the ceiling of the first cage, following there every move.

"We know you're down there, mutie," said the taller and burlier of the two guards as he kneeled down before the bed and peered underneath. Spotting the pale frail looking figure quivering in the corner, he chuckled darkly and reached out his hand, "Come out and play for bit, won't ya?"

The smaller, but by no means puny, of the two stood behind his partner and glanced warily over his shoulder to the cage next door when he felt the weight of eyes on them. However, there was nothing to be found in the still and empty cell except shadows. Shaking his head at his own paranoia, he snapped his eyes back to the man in front of him when he let out a loud curse.

"Shit! Why you little _animal_," the burly man snarled angrily, "I'll teach you to bite _me_!"

Getting a good grip on the leg of small form, he roughly dragged it out into the open. The young boy cried out in fear as he was suddenly forced to face his infuriated captor; he was not prepared for the iron fist that collided into his jaw. His entire body whipped to the side with the force of the blow and he fell to the metal floor in a crumpled heap with a loud smack, the guards laughing above his stunned, twitching form.

Anxious golden eyes watched from their perch as the small boy shifted and groaned, gagging when the large guard picked him up off the floor by his throat. The luminous eyes disappeared once more before reappearing considerably closer to the cage bars; narrowing menacingly as they saw the burly man roughly push the young boy in his partner's direction. Snickering, the gangly one kicked the boy in the gut, sending him flying straight into the wall next to the cage bars. The boy tried to cry out in pain as his back hit the wall and his head connected with the metal, but the air had rushed out of his lungs. Frightened tears began welling up in his eyes as he hunch over and tried to regain his breath before the next blow.

The burly man then made a fatal mistake; pulling the boy's head back up by the hair, he looked straight into the kid's huge tearful doe eyes, colored like amethyst, and slitted like a cat. He was trapped by those mesmerizing eyes no longer than a second but that was all it took.

The guard reeled back with a terrified cry, dropping the boy in his alarmed state. The kid scampered away quickly, desperate to escape from their clutches; but he was in a cell and there really wasn't anywhere to run. He yelped in surprise when the other guard grabbed his ankle.

"What'd you do to him, you monster!!" the smaller man growled, yanking the boy back by the ankle, then used it as leverage to flip the boy onto his back, "I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"

The young boy wailed as he felt a sharp pain in his ankle, whimpering and crying out as the guard began pummeling him with the cattle prod mercilessly. A long spaded-tail was lashing wildly in anger, unseen in the darkness, as golden eyes calculated the opportune moment to strike. Another chilling scream echoed down into the cell block from the upper levels, and the lights flickered as a small tremor swept through the earth around them, and went out for a split second.

The guard was laughing and taunting his sobbing victim before each blow he rained down on the fragile body. The next thing he knew his head was clanging against a steel bar, and in his stunned state, he turned to meet face to face with a furious looking demon.

"Kommen Sie von ihm Sie Bastard weg!" the Nightcrawler growled fiercely in his native tongue; a tridactyl hand reaching through the bars and taking hold of the guard, yanking him off the boy with a strength unexpected from such a long lanky arm.

The boy quickly scrambled to the far side of his cage, away from the fray. He watched in horror as Nightcrawler slipped his arms through the bars, taking hold of the man who had been beating him, and began to pound his head against the metal floor. Cringing, the young boy ducked his head and wrapped his arms around his knees, unable to keep watching his friend's unusual savagery; he didn't see the guard who had dropped him stagger to his feet and reach into his back pocket.

"You damned devil!" he shouted as he pressed a button on a small rectangular device. The boy's head shot up at the exclamation, he tried to shout a warning but it was too late.

One moment Nightcrawler was about to reintroduce the slime ball in his grasp to the unforgiving metal floor, the next he was howling in agony as a piercing pain burst forth from the power suppressing collar around his neck, and burned its way down his entire spinal column, to the very tip of his spaded tail. He lost his grip on the man and dropped to the floor, a writhing mass of blue fur, frantically clawing at the collar in a futile effort to reduce the pain. He distantly heard the sounds of the guards cursing, as well as a cell door slamming open a shut twice. The angry guards were now looming above him. Excellent. His plan had succeeded.

He realized slowly through the haze of pain that the guards had asked him some sort of question when he received a sharp kick in the gut, and they loudly demanded he answer. He heard his young friend's frightened cry, and glanced at him quickly out of the corner of his golden eyes; the little fool didn't understand what he was doing and was scurrying toward him and back into the guards' presence of mind. When another kick demanded his answer again, he took his chance.

"Bewegen Sie nicht!" he replied in a loud rebellious tone, knowing that the guards could not understand German, and would think he was mocking them, "Bleiben Sie, wo Sie sind und nicht, spricht!"

The boy in the next cage froze, a horrified look creeping over his face as comprehension finally dawned. Trembling slightly, he obediently crawled away from Nightcrawler's cell, curling up next to the wall, sobbing into his knees to muffle the sound. Rocking back and forth manically, he covered his ears trying to block out his savior's cries of pain as he was brutally beaten in his stead.

* * *

For long after the guards left, Kurt lay very still on the floor of his cell. He struggled to get enough air into his lungs, coughing every now and then when the fluid in his mouth tickled the back of his throat. In his barely conscious state, the whole world seemed to be swimming around him. His body was so numb with pain he didn't think he would be ever be able to feel anything else again; that was until he became aware of a small warm presence on his forearm, moving up and down incessantly along his fur. What the hell . . . Was someone petting him? 

Although the gesture usually annoyed Kurt immensely — he was a person after all, not an animal — perhaps the two pain-filled months in the unforgiving hands of his captors, had made the tender human touch much more tolerable. He struggled to open his eyes, blinking several times to clear his foggy vision. Looking down his arm, he saw a tiny pale hand gently stroking his fur. Moving his other arm very slowly, he caught the little hand in his own before looking up at its owner.

The child was tiny, with skin pale as fine porcelain, and a cherubic heart-shaped face. His huge violet eyes were hidden behind the long bangs of light honey-blonde colored hair. Sometimes Kurt found it hard to believe that the frail delicate looking creature before him was really a boy. When he felt the little hand squeeze his own, he looked up carefully at the younger boy, wary of meeting his eyes.

"Domo Arigatou, Kurt-san," he said very quietly in Japanese. Extricating his hand from Kurt's, he gave a small bow to emphasize his gratitude.

Kurt moved to sit up, about to respond to the boy, but the movement caused a sudden pounding in his head that made him groan and slump back down to the floor, his surroundings quickly fading to black.

* * *

The first thing that filtered through the darkness was another tortured scream echoing down from the lab above. Then, all the aches and pains throughout his body made themselves known one by one, and he couldn't help but groan quietly. Then next thing he was conscious of, were two differently accented voices seemingly arguing with each other. 

"Awww, is ze petit chou chou going to cry now?" asked a feminine voice mockingly.

"_BE QUIET!_" Kurt flinched slightly, that voice was much closer to him, and painfully _loud_.

The French-accented voice sounded disgusted, "Puh, you are such a sniveling little brat."

"Just reabe me _arone_!!" the Japanese voice cracked as it shouted back to its tormentor.

Kurt realized belatedly that he must have blacked out, because the inky blackness surrounding the edges of his vision was slowly ebbing away. He blinked owlishly to clear his vision, before turning his pounding head slowly to the left and eyeing the small boy sitting close to him, on the other side of the metal bars. He was facing the cell across the hall, face visibly red even under the ridiculously long bangs that nearly covered his cheeks. His shoulders were hunched to his ears, making the much too large smock he wore slip off a pale shoulder; and although the long sleeves that pooled on the floor on either side of him completely covered his arms, his body language told Kurt that his small fists were clenched at his sides. The young boy was trembling with what could be rage, humiliation or a combination of the two. Kurt heard their cellmate scoff from across the passage separating their cages.

"_Reabe you arone_," the French girl mocked the younger boy's accent, "You see? Zis is what I'm talking about. You are such a worthless little snit, zat you cannot even defend yourself."

"_Yamete!_" his voice trembled as he shouted weakly, shaking his head in denial, his chest heaving slightly, and his lip trembling with the effort to hold back his tears.

The girl ignored his little outburst and continued, "You are always needing to be protected, or rescued. You cannot even control your own powers! Even zat 'as to be done for you. Ze only reason _zey _'ave even kept you alive is because threatening you keeps Neutral in line!"

"_URUSAI!_" the boy yelled pathetically, covering his ears in an effort to block out the girl's scathing remarks, no longer able to keep the tears from streaming down his face.

Seeing she had already gotten under his skin, the girl sneered before going in for the kill, "Before 'e came along, you were nothing but a twitching, bawling, drooling mess, overwhelmed by your own power. Without 'im, you are nothing but a failed experiment. And you know what _zey _do to failed experiments — "

"Zat ist enough, Cambrant!" Kurt shouted angrily surprising the two mutants who obviously still thought that he was unconscious.

"Mind your own business, cochon allemand!" She replied angrily from where she was sitting on her bed, annoyed that her fun had been interrupted.

So distracted had they been by each other, that the prisoners did not notice the approach of footsteps until the door to the room slammed open, making everyone in the room freeze in their places.

"Hey!" a new guard shouted angrily, "Shut yer traps, or I'll shut 'em up for ya!"

Silence greeted his threat and the guard smirked. Turning back to the door, he gave the okay for two more guards to step into the room, carrying between them another mutant. Walking briskly ahead of the other two, the first guard stopped and unlocked the cell already occupied by the little boy. The other two quickly followed, dragging the visibly exhausted mutant along with them. Tossing their charge carelessly into the cell and locking it, the three turned and left, slamming the cell room door behind them.

"Niisan!!" the little boy gave a startled cry and scrambled towards the unmoving mutant that had been tossed in with him.

Cambrant grumbled something in French before lying down and turning her back on the others. Kurt grimaced as he pushed himself into a seated position, feeling lightheaded and a bit queasy. He watched anxiously as the little boy tried to rouse his companion, panic clearly evident in his cries.

"Niisan! Daijoubu desu ka? _Niisan!!_" he shouted as he urgently shook the mutant sprawled on his side before him.

The young man groaned, rolling himself on to his back with some effort; raising a slightly shaking arm, he placed a finger over the little boy's mouth, effectively quieting his young companion.

"Shhhh, Kyoumu," said a quiet, tired-sounding baritone, "_Daijoubu_. Niisan just has a _very _bad headache."

Opening a pair of ruby red eyes, the young man briefly examined the boy hovering over him. The first thing he noticed was a dark bruise forming on the shoulder exposed by the slipping smock. His right cheek was flushed an angry red color, and painfully swollen. He ran his fingers lightly along the inflamed skin, making Kyoumu flinch away. Brushing aside slightly wet bangs from tear-stained cheeks, Fuhen did what only he could do; he looked straight into the anguished violet eyes of his little brother, and nothing more needed to be said.

Fuhen forced himself up, and moved himself and his younger brother the short distance to the wall that was nearest Kurt's cell. Leaning back against the cool metal surfaced he sighed deeply, gathering the crying child in his arms and settling him comfortably on his lap. They murmured softly in Japanese, Fuhen shushing his brother's tearful whines with calm soothing words. After a while, Kyoumu finally calmed and dozed off, leaving the dim room in silence once more.

Kurt had sat quietly watching the whole scene, as he leaned against the bars that separated their cages. He shifted a bit to get into a more comfortable position, when he raised his head once again, golden eyes met with almond-shaped rubies.

"Nightcrawler . . . you rook rike you've been hit by a truck," Fuhen said evenly as he stoically surveyed the damage. It was always hard to tell with Nightcrawler, due to the dark fur covering his body; but he looked unusually rumpled to say the least.

Kurt tried to smirk, but it was kind of hard to do with a split lip, so he settled for raising a brow over a swollen eye, "You've seen better days yourself, Neutral."

"I've tord you, you can call me Fuhen."

"I'll start calling you Fuhen, ven you stop calling me Nightcrawler."

"Touché," Fuhen couldn't help a tired smile, but a frown soon marred his features, after a short silence, he spoke again, "Somehow, 'Thank you' . . . . just doesn't cut it."

Kurt tsked softly, looking away, "They still hurt him. If you had been here— "

Fuhen's weary voice cut him off, "If I had been here, I wouldn't have been able to get up off this floor; much ress prevent Kyoumu from being hurt. What you did was more than enough, Kurt-san."

Kurt looked back at Fuhen, but the other mutant had leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Thinking about that remark as he studied the other boy, he realized, with some apprehension, that other boy might be in worse shape than he was. As was the usual routine, whenever Fuhen was dragged up to the upper levels of the lab, he always returned with a small insignificant looking bandage tied around his upper arm; today was no different. What _was _different this time, was how exhausted he was when he had been brought back.

Fuhen had been dubbed "Neutral," because he had the ability to neutralize virtually _anything_. The doctors had discovered that his powers could be put to work in many different ways; with a simple touch, he could shut down vital functions that kept the human body alive; he could create force fields of varying size that would neutralize all forms of attack they came in contact with; or render an opponent powerless by trapping him within a neutral zone; and of course their favorite, he could completely cancel out the abilities of any other mutant he came in contact with.

Through all manner of unspeakable experiments and testing, they had managed to unravel the mysteries of his power and pinpoint its source; his _blood_. Once they figured that out, it was no longer necessary to for him to be physically present for the experiments that required his useful abilities; the doctors simply drained out some of his blood. But it seemed that today, they had almost bled him dry.

Fuhen was unnaturally pale, and a light sheen of sweat covering his normally golden olive skin. Kurt could see goose bumps starting to form along the flesh of his arms, left exposed by the sleeveless white smock he wore. A visible shudder ran through the redhead's body and he unconsciously pulled his little brother closer. Waking at the movement, Kyou looked up at his brother with a pout, which quickly turned to a frown. Reaching up, he brushed back the auburn hair that had begun to matt to his elder brother's forehead.

"Niisan?" he queried anxiously as another shudder ran through the older mutant's body. Fuhen opened his eyes and looked down at the worried child in his arms.

"I'm alright. Just a rittle cold," he reassured, warm red eyes looking into violet.

Kyoumu looked doubtful for a moment, before snuggling closer to his brother hoping to keep him warm. Fuhen met Kurt's golden gaze briefly, his ruby eyes considerably duller, before he hunkered down a bit, burying his nose in soft, warm honey blonde hair; small shivers still running through his body.

A strong tremor suddenly shook the building all around them; the lights in the hall flickered wildly before finally going out. A long haunting scream, full of rage and sorrow, echoed down into the holding cells once again, accompanied by an even stronger tremor that actually jarred the floor beneath the captives' feet.

Kurt grabbed the metal bars near him to steady himself until the quake was over. Fuhen followed his example, looping one arm around the bars, his other tightening reflexively around Kyoumu's small form. The little boy's frightened wails were almost drowned out by the screams from above, and the groaning of the building around them. Across the hall, Cambrant squealed delightedly, riding the waves of the shifting floor under her feet and laughing joyfully, as if it were all some sort of game.

When the scream above died down, the shifting earth calmed at once; leaving the captives confused and disoriented, a single flickering light left the cells mostly in shadow. Kurt groaned and held back a wave of nausea as the pain throughout his body increased twofold, after having been thoroughly jarred by the tremor. Fuhen slumped against the bars, his body further exhausted by the simple task of just holding on. Little Kyoumu was still clinging to him for dear life, whimpering and sobbing in confusion and fear. Cambrant stood in the middle of her cell still giddy and giggling.

"Bravo! Encore! Encore!" she shouted gleefully, "Sounds like Botany is 'aving fun, n'est pas?"

"Vas is wrong vith you?" Kurt asked tiredly in disgust, giving Cambrant an incredulous look.

She did not answer out loud, but in the dim light, Kurt thought he saw her give him a smug look, as if she knew something he didn't. The flickering light took longer and longer to come back on after each time it went out, until eventually it extinguished for good, plunging the four mutants into an absolute darkness in the underground room.

The only thing piercing the dark silence, were Kyou's soft whimpers and Fuhen's wearily whispered comforts.

* * *

_The rain had begun to fall at sun down, making the vast coniferous forest unusually dark. It was a peaceful night, or so it seemed, until a terrified scream suddenly split the silence of the night._

_A young girl screamed once again, running as fast as she possibly could toward a nearby tree, hoping to climb up into the relative safety of its branches. But no sooner did she reach the base of the trunk, did a cruel hand tangle itself in the waves of her long spring bud colored hair, yanking her back savagely. She screeched in pain, then whimpered in terror as that hand brought her face to face with the man she feared most._

"_I thought I told ya to stay inside, mutie!" he said as he picked her up by the scruff of her long night shirt and dragged her towards the door of their small cottage deep in the foothills of the Rockies._

"_Looks like ya forgot ya last lesson already, wench. Perhaps ya need a little reminder, eh?" He dumped her on the kitchen floor, and went to the nearby closet. The girl shrieked and scrambled out of the kitchen doorway into the cottage's tiny living room._

"_Hey! Get back here!" he yelled as he removed a metal bat from the closet, and ran after her. He grabbed her by the hair once more and flung her into the corner, her body connecting brutally with the wall. The tranquility of the surrounding woods was soon disturbed by the echoes painful screams and sobs._

"_What did ya think ya were doing?" he swung the bat again. She sobbed in a little huddle for a few moments before she picked a dry leaf from her hair and held it up._

"_Ooh, I see, ya wanted some water for that nappy hair," he smirked as her tearful eyes widened in fear, "Ya want some water? I'll give ya some water!"_

_He took hold of her shoulder and jerked her roughly off the floor. The girl yelped as she felt the searing pain of the joint dislocating, the sudden pain making her trip on the stairs; she was rewarded with a sharp kick to the stomach for her clumsiness. She gagged, and gasped for air, unable to find the strength to return to her feet. Disgusted, the man hauled her the rest of the way up the stairs, and dumped her in the middle of the hall. He turned his attention away from the miserable heap of a girl, and went into the bathroom._

_She lay there sobbing, praying for the pain throbbing throughout her body to end soon. Perhaps this time he would go through with his constant threats, and finally put her out of her misery; nothing else mattered to her anymore but finding an end to the horrible pain._

_She lay there drifting in and out of consciousness, the faded colors of the musty carpet she laid on swimming in her vision. At one point, she was almost certain she heard the sound of water running; but she couldn't focus clearly with the pounding in her head. The man returned and roughly towed her by the hair down the dirty carpeted hall and onto the cold tile floor of the bathroom. The room was thick with steam, and she sluggishly realized that its source was the small white old-fashioned porcelain tub in the corner of the room._

"_Here's ya water! Ha! Ha!" he laughed cruelly as he hefted her from the floor and shoved the small girl into the tub. Her treacherous limbs would not respond to the sirens blaring in her mind, and she could only brace herself as she hit the scalding hot water. She wailed and sobbed pitifully, trying desperately to get out of the tub only to find herself being pushed back in by her tormentor._

"_C'mon! C'mon! What? Isn't this what ya wanted, mutie? Here, why don't ya have some more!" the man savagely dunked her head underwater, and laughed at her feeble attempts to get free of his murderous grip. Darkness was beginning to cloud the edges of her vision; and she felt as if her lungs would burst from her chest if she didn't breathe soon. She made one final desperate struggle to escape with her last of energy before her body went limp in the water._

_The man chuckled and finally let go, "Well, that's one less weed to worry 'bout."_

_She was fading towards that shining light at the end of the infamous tunnel, when she dimly remembered something from long ago; a promise. One she would soon break if she reached the end of said tunnel. Suddenly something just exploded within her; her last ounce of control snapping. The pain, and fear, and frustration, and the __**anger**__ that had long since been endured and repressed would be held back no longer. It was the breaching of a massive damn; and she felt surging within her an immense and obstreperous power. Her eyes opened in the water, and she slowly lifted her battered form from the tub._

_Halfway out of the bathroom, he heard the movement in the water and turned, "What the— " _

_He started saying when he saw the girl slowly lift her head, but was shocked into silence. Her eyes weren't their usual soft amber brown; they were a uniform glowing emerald green. She lifted a dripping, scalded hand in his direction._

"_Why you little mutie bi— " his words were cut off as a thorned vine rapidly closed around his throat. He pulled at it instinctively only to find it tighten even more. She flicked her wrist sharply, and the vine whipped his body into the far wall of the bathroom._

_Shakily stepping out of the tub, she slowly headed into the hall and down the rickety old stairs. Everywhere she stepped, all kinds of flora sprouted forth; brilliant butterflies, chummy bumble bees, and shining dragonflies appeared everywhere as if born of the old molding wooden floor boards. She reached the bottom of the staircase and turned to leave the little mountain cottage, when something suddenly bashed her at the base of her neck. She collapsed on the floor, and was roughly rolled over._

"_Ya little mutie wretch!" The man stood over her with the metal bat held in a hand trembling with rage, gleaming as it was raised high, "You think you can just leave after a stunt like that?!"_

_Her eyes narrowed, their strange glow diffusing throughout her entire body. He looked on in shock as she shoved him off, and stood up; her hair and clothes whipping around her as if caught in a gale. Everything in the house wobbled, the cottage being shaken by a sudden terrible quaking. He stood transfixed in the girl's frightening emerald gaze. The divine animal right to survive and protect herself, instilled in all living creatures, had finally awakened; the dam was breached, and nothing would hold back the flood. _

_Then she screamed, this time not in terror, but in rage — __**bloody rage**_

* * *

A few alarmed cries swept though the scientists and assistants gathered in Lab M, as the building rattled around them; instruments, equipment and sensitive machinery falling, crashing, or teetering precariously as the earth heaved. 

"Doctor! We _must_ stop the memory simulation we're losing control of the subject. We don't have the facilities to contain a full manifestation of the subject's mutant abilities!" cried a very panicked assistant.

"Pipe down you coward! We almost had it that time. I am not about to back down when we are this close!" the Head Doctor exclaimed.

"Have you gone _mad_? M45 has been demonstrating increasingly dangerous seismic abilities. Even M42's shield is no longer strong enough to neutralize them," another upset scientist tried to reason with the Head Doctor.

"How much did we drain today?" the Head inquired briefly, ignoring the outburst.

"As much as possible without the risk of fatality," an assistant answered, after flipping through some charts.

The Head Doctor tapped his chin for a moment, "Make sure all of the blood is running through the generator, and prepare to project the M97's optical imprint once again."

"Sir, wouldn't be simpler to use the source to jolt M45's memory?" asked a newly transferred assistant.

"M97 is a much too volatile. The pathetic waste has no control over its abilities whatsoever, and loses all coherent thinking processes when its suppression collar is removed. A subject that is so easily overwhelmed by its own ability is useless to us."

"Then why keep it?" asked the same assistant confused.

"It is a matter of leverage," the Head answered coolly, before issuing his orders, "Let's run it again. Raise the frequency to the maximum level!"

Another assistant turned a knob on the control panel as far as it would go. Everyone waited, baiting their breath and hoping for success this time, as they stared out of the large glass pane that separated the observation room they were in, from a large, and seemingly empty, spherical room. Suddenly, an emerald light flashed brightly, disappearing as quickly as it came. It seemed to have come from a small bundle floating in midair at its center. It was a small teenaged girl curled into a fetal position, with dozens of wires and nodules hooked up to her. _She_ was the source of all the haunting screams.

The lab workers watched warily as the rumble of the ground began anew, steadily increasing, the emerald light glowing brighter by the second. Abruptly, everything stopped, the glowing ceased, all the gauges plummeted, and the girl broke down into a sobbing heap, sagging amongst all the wires.

"_Dammit!_" the Head Doctor cursed in frustration, slamming a fist into the panel, "That's it! Four years worth of research and this _worthless animal _has done _nothing_ but waste our time and money. Get me another mutant, get me _another _one!"

"But sir, what about the girl?" asked an unusually sympathetic assistant.

"Get rid of it. It's useless now. We do not keep _failed _experiments," he replied angrily, "Eliminate M45, you can throw it into the furnace for all I care."

Unbeknownst to the scientists, the girl's superior senses had enabled her to hear everything. Her thoughts spiraled out of control in shock, as she listened to the sounds of the workers packing up, chattering idly to each other; as if it were the most normal of days in some kind of office building instead of a mutant experimentation facility where she and the others had been tortured and experimented on for years. She listened as a group of assistants laughed merrily at someone's dumb joke as they gathered their materials; while some others argued about putting away some equipment.

But the shock soon wore off, and her eyebrows knitted menacingly; the callousness of the scientists supplying the last ounce of anger she needed to be pushed over the edge, and give the Doctor the results he had been yearning for. Without warning, all the gages in the control room peaked, and everyone was blinded by the emerald light. The ground shook wildly, splitting open all around them, then the entire laboratory was suddenly being engulfed by savage vegetation. The shield generator exploded, red painting the floor and walls, as a huge vine shot through the machine. The glass separating the rooms shattered and the scientists squealed in terror. Drifting towards the observing room, the girl's piercing emerald gaze settled on the Head Doctor; the narrowing of her emerald eyes was the last thing he ever saw.

* * *

Kurt didn't know how long they'd been sitting in the dark, but it could not have been more than half an hour. He looked around the room, the only one who could see clearly in the pitch blackness. Cambrant was lying on her bed once more; her back was to him, but he knew the strange girl was as wide awake as he was. 

Fuhen had not moved from where he had slumped against the bars except to slide further down; his breathing was still heavy, and Kurt couldn't tell from his angle if the young man was still conscious or not. Little Kyoumu was sprawled a top his brother's unmoving form, little hands clutching at Fuhen's shirt through his own long sleeves. He had been softly singing the same song, over and over, since Fuhen had gone quiet; but his singing had a noticeably manic nature, his voice trembling slightly off key, with many long unnatural pauses.

Suddenly a loud rumble cut through the silence; soon accompanied by a steadily increasing tremor of the earth. They could hear the noises of the building and the earth around them groaning, cracking and splitting open. Almost simultaneously the four mutants gave startled cries as they felt something slowly brushing and slithering around the skin of their necks. They could feel the collars beginning to come apart, until finally they burst to pieces and fell to the shaking floor around them.

Kurt knelt down and briefly and studied the pieces that rattled on the trembling ground; they had been broken from within, small plants having sprouted within the gears until the entire device was split apart. There was a brief flash of light, and Kurt looked up to the cell in front of him to see a large indigo spark glowing at the tip of Cambrant's index finger; and an excited manic grin on her face.

"Magnifique!!" she squealed excitedly as she realized they were now free to use their powers.

She waved her arm around quickly forming a large glowing indigo ring in the air next to her; she dabbed her finger into the middle of it, creating a large indigo spark at its center. It crackled for a few moments before black and indigo, and various shades in between diffused into the ring, swirling into a vortex. Cambrant cried happily as she saw the portal form before her, promptly stepping into it and disappearing. A loud ripping sound was heard and Cambrant popped out of thin air with a flash of light, into the cage next to hers. Giggling delightedly, she went into a portal making frenzy appearing and disappearing intermittently throughout the room; traveling to and from who knew where.

"What's going on?" Fuhen groaned as the shaking earth, exploding collars and his brother's panicked cries finally woke him from whatever stupor he had succumbed to. He groped at his neck blindly in the dark, realizing that the collars had come off. Ignoring the insane girl's absurd antics, Kurt teleported over into the brothers' cell. The flash lit the room briefly, more brightly than the indigo light of the portals.

"Ve need to get out of here," Kurt replied, looking warily at the cracks forming along the ceiling of his cell, before suddenly remembering his friends could not see in the dark, "I think something's gone wrong upstairs. Look— "

Nightcrawler closed his luminous golden eyes and concentrated. Now that his collar was off, he could use his teleporting abilities again, as well as a few new talents the doctors had so _graciously _bestowed upon him. Taking several deep breathes, Kurt felt the warmth gather in the pit of his stomach; he still wasn't completely used to this, but it came easier every time he tried it. Finally, with a deep inhale that puffed out his chest, Kurt opened his mouth wide and released a long torrent of molten flame into the air. It spread slowly into a suspended arc, traveling at a snail's pace through the air, illuminating their crumbling surroundings. Kneeling down next to the two boys who could now see clearly in the lighted room, Kurt picked up the rattling pieces from the shaking floor, and showed them to Fuhen.

"Zis _has _to be Botanik's doing," he explained, as he pulled bits of green plant matter out of the devices gears.

"Kuso," Fuhen couldn't help growling a curse, as he inspected the broken collars, and looked at the trembling room around them, "What have they done to her?"

A loud ripping sound alarmed the boys, as the air before them tore open and Cambrant's head poked out right in front of their startled faces. The golden light of Kurt's flame soon faded, replaced by the indigo glow emitted from Cambrant's portal. She grinned, her dark green eyes filled with amusement at having startled the boys.

"Vous devrez partir pendant que vous pouvez toujours," she stated humorlessly in French, looking straight at Nightcrawler, grin still firmly in place. Her head was the only visible part of her body, fixed and unmoving in the room shaking around them; long tendrils of raven black hair floated around her seemingly suspended head, a small indigo vortex swirling behind it.

"Why do you say zat?" Nightcrawler asked, not really wanting to here the answer. He looked worriedly at the two brothers who had not understood her warning.

"Well, because ze upper levels are already gone. Zey are completely overgrown, there is no getting through. Ze only exit left to us— is ze unconventional one," she said in a light tone.

Nightcrawler could feel the fur on the back of his neck all the way down his spine stand on end as he thought of the implications of their escape; the groaning of the metal ceiling above them as it was split by a long wide crack, was not helping any. He glanced quickly at the brothers; Kyoumu was staring fearfully at the gap in the ceiling, while Fuhen refused to meet Kurt's gaze, staring at the floor fracturing beneath them, jaw tight and grim.

The constant tremor suddenly became violent as huge vines, sharp roots, and other savage vegetation began bursting through the metal walls of the room around them. The three boys hastily dodged the hostile plants, while Cambrant's head continued to float calmly in the center of the chaos.

"Cambrant!" Nightcrawler yelled over the cacophony around them, before he had to teleport out of the way of a deadly root, "Take Fuhen through one of your portals! I vill teleport Kyoumu out of here!"

He looked back over his shoulder at the girl hovering above his crouched form, and was immediately disquieted by the look on her face. She had become completely stoic, looking down her nose at Kurt, hunter green eyes narrow and completely disinterested.

"Now why on _earth_," she asked very slowly, her voice monotone, "Would _I _do _zat_?"

Nightcrawler watched in frozen horror as a bright indigo flash proceeded a zipping sound and Cambrant disappeared, closing the portal behind her. In his shock he stood still too long, losing track of his dangerous surroundings. He heard Kyoumu's voice almost as if from afar, and turned to see a surge of merciless plants heading straight toward him; he couldn't even think to teleport. From the corner of his eyes he could see a rush of movement, then his vision was blinded by a flash of white; and Nightcrawler suddenly found himself with his arms full of an overly anxious Kyoumu.

"Kurt-san! What happuned! Daijoubu?" the little boy continued questioning him rapidly, switching back and forth from English to Japanese, never looking him in the face, but checking him over to make certain he was alright.

Nightcrawler looked up from the little blonde to see his older brother a mere foot or two in front of him. He was standing rigidly, feet wide apart, his arms stretched out perpendicular to his sides, shaking and straining; his hands were curled into fists, a heavenly white light burning brightly around them, connecting directly with the small white dome surrounding the three boys. His face was hidden as his head hung low, chin almost touching the chest that was heaving with the effort of maintaining the thin glowing barrier that was keeping them all from certain death; the savage vegetation continuing to wreak havoc outside the small force field.

"Fuhen . . ." Kurt managed to choke out weakly, golden eyes wide. Wild, untamable auburn hair fell into the young man's face, obscuring it further from view; but Kurt didn't need to see his face to guess his intentions.

"Kurt-san," the soft baritone sounded much firmer than its owner could possibly feel, "Take Kyoumu and get out of here."

"Nein! Fuhen . . . Zere has to be another— "

"There isn't!" the man cut him off sharply, taking a shaky breathe, he added quietly, "Reave, now. Before it's too late. I will not forgive you if you ret Kyoumu die."

Kurt could only stare in shock for a moment before a strained laugh escaped his throat, "Somehow, 'Thank you' . . . . just doesn't cut it."

At those words, Fuhen let out a strangled sound that seemed a cross between a laugh and a sob.

"Ano . . . Niisan . . ." Kyoumu's voice was trembling as he looked from Nightcrawler to his brother, "Doushita ka? What are you saying!"

"Gomen nasai," Fuhen responded, speaking very softly in his native tongue.

"N-Niisan no baka . . . Nani . . . " Kyoumu tired to approach his brother, disturbed by his solemn tone and strange words, but Nightcrawler held him back.

"Daisuki desu, Itoshigo."

"Onegai . . . yamete, Niisan!" Kyou's eyes were watering of their own volition; and he started struggling in Kurt's grasp, suddenly very frightening by his brother's words and actions.

"Odaijini . . . Sayonara."

He gasped in understanding, trying to launch himself at his brother, fighting hopelessly to get free of Nightcrawler's grasp, sobbing and wailing in despair, "F-Fuhen-niisan!!_Iya da_, dame, y-yamete kudusai, _hanase_! Hanase _kudusai!_ _FUHEN _— "

His cries were abruptly cut off as they disappeared with a sudden flash, a cloud of spoke left in their wake.

* * *

For a moment all was quiet on the lush green mountainside. Then, the building exploded.

* * *

**Translation Notes:** _I don't know German, I've only started learning Japanese, and my French is really rusty so please excuse any mistakes in syntax or meaning. _

_Kommen Sie von ihm Sie Bastard weg! — _Get away from him you bastard!

_Bewegen Sie nicht! . . . Bleiben Sie, wo Sie sind und nicht, spricht!_ — Don't move! . . . Stay where you are and don't speak!

_Domo Arigatou, Kurt-san — _Thank you very much; -_san_ is a suffix used to show respect. It is sometimes translated as 'Mister,' but I don't really want it to mean "Mr. Kurt," so just take it as Kyoumu and Fuhen showing their respect.

_Petit chou chou_ — French idiom literally meaning: _Little cabbage_, it is used when addressing children in the same way we use the terms _Honey,_ or _Sweetheart. _

_Yamete!_ — Stop!

_URUSAI!_ — SHUT UP!

_Cochon allemand _— German pig

_Niisan_ — Big Brother; sometimes _niisan_ can act as a suffix, such as _Fuhen-niisan_

_Daijoubu desu ka?_ — Are you okay?

_Daijoubu_. — I'm okay.

_N'est pas?_ — Another idiomatic phrase used at the end of a statement, transforming it into a question that asks for your opinion; roughly translates to "don't you think so?"

_Vous devez partir pendant que vous pouvez toujours_. — You should leave while you still can.

_Gomen nasai _— I am sorry

_Niisan no baka _. . . _Nani_ . . . — Stupid brother . . . What . . .

_Doushita ka?— _What's the matter

_Daisuki desu_ — I love you

_Itoshigo_ — beloved or dear child; the way I understand it, it's supposed to be a pet name or endearment

_Onegai _. . . _yamete_ — Please . . . stop

_Odaijini_ — Take care of yourself

_Sayonara_ — Goodbye or Farewell, supposed to be used when the parting is _final_

_Iya da, dame, y-yamete kudasai, hanase!! . . . __Hanase kudasai!!_ — No, no, s-stop please, let me go! . . . Let me go, please!

**A/N**: Well? What'd ya think?? Hope I didn't bore you too much. Sorry to say I'm not a fast updater. My beta's gone on vacation, therefore I edit everything myself — which means there is no one to stop me from rewriting scenes at least 150 times each! ;; . . . Well, thank you for reading and please review!!!

— La Loba


	2. Here We Go 'Round the Mulberry Bush

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X-Men: Evolution characters. They are all property of Marvel and I am using them in this story without permission. Don't sue me!! I'm not making a profit!!

**A/N**: YAY!! Many thanks to my reviewers — you guys rock!! My internet was disconnected for a while so I can't remember if I replied to everyone. If I didn't thanks for reading my story, and I hope you continue to do so. It is my duty to admit that I stole Nightcrawler's new powers (and the tattoo) from the Ultimate X-men universe, cuz Ultimate Nightcrawler has like this awesome fire breath thing. And then Kyoumu's little gift was inspired by GetBackers' Ban Midou. (Woo hoo!o Glomps Ban) His codename is in fact "Jagan." So there, credit has been given where due.

_THE MULBERRY BUSH_ — Yes! My seemingly random Chapter titles actually make sense in this warped little head of mine! Okay for those of you who don't know Greek Mythology: The Greeks have it that the Mulberry Bush, or Tree which ever you prefer, used to only have White berries, unlike today's bush which can have White or _Red_. Any-who, myth has it that two lovers were killed, or committed suicide, under the bush/tree and their blood stained the white berries red. What was the whole point of this?? I use the _White vs. Red _thing in this chapter, thus its title!! OKAY!! On with the story!!

— _La Loba_

**WARNING**: This story in general deals with abuse and has some mildly graphic violence. Thus the rating PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you, or you don't like it, then don't read this story. You have been warned.

**Bold **--telepathically communicated, or spoken through comms

_Italics _-- thoughts, or flashbacks

* * *

**Botanik**

By: _La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 2: _Here We Go 'Round the Mulberry Bush  
_  
The heavily pouring rain quickly prevented the fire from spreading, although a few pits and piles of rubble still smoked and crackled in the dark of the night. The lab was utterly destroyed; what had not been engulfed by the blast had been ripped apart and overgrown by vegetation down to the very lowest levels. And yet for all the heat and fire, and burning debris sent flying by the explosion, the forest surrounding the decimated area remained completely unscathed. If anything, the forest was even _greener _and _healthier_ than before the chaotic explosion; still, the land was permeated by an eerie silence.

A pile of debris near the edge of the forest shifted slightly and moaned, a battered hand suddenly bursting out of its depths; it belonged to the girl. She groaned again, dust and dirt sliding off of her body as she rose shakily on her hands and knees. At a painstakingly slow pace, she crawled out of the ash pile, trying to stand on wobbling legs, only to collapse back onto the muddy ground. The icy rain poured on around her, drenching her cold mud covered body, and matting her hair.

The world spun incessantly, as a terrible pain in the left side of her chest made it difficult to breathe. Her right shoulder had dislocated, and a deep gash over her right hip was bleeding profusely; as was another on her leg. Her head ached so badly she felt as if it'd been split open with an ax; and to make matters worse, her body would _not _stop convulsing. She was terribly scared and weak; her favorite combination.

She lay there confused and frightened, looking at the unfamiliar forest and debris around her, trying to get her bearings back. What had happened? Why was she here? Where was the lab? A cough tore through her shaking body sending unbearable waves of pain through her, eventually forcing her to turn over onto her side in order to get air back into her exhausted lungs. But as the coughing subsided, and she looked in front of her once more, her eyes widened in horror; the lab lay in ruins. She let out a startled and pained cry, suddenly terrified at what she'd done.

She felt no sympathy or remorse for the bastard scientists that most assuredly met their doom at the loss of her temper; no, that was not what caused the tears to steadily leak from her agonized mahogany eyes. Surely the lab must have been swallowed up by the savage vegetation she had unconsciously summoned within _minutes_; just like long ago. And if that was true . . . Locked in their cells on the _lowest _level of the complex, the others could not have _possibly _made it out on time. Her body's convulsing worsened as heart wrenching sobs began to rack her small body. _What had she done?_

She lay there weeping for many long minutes under the icy rain, before a moaning wind blew through the trees around her, carrying a warning of danger; she was no longer safe in the openness of the laboratory's ruins. She struggled to drag herself into the forest, groaning and yelping in pain, making her way at a murderously slow pace; collapsing several times into sobs of pain, and even retching once along the way. She finally made it to the base of an ancient looking tree not far from the clearing, blood loss and her straining efforts making her keel over; her small, frail looking body, hidden within the trees' gigantic roots. And suddenly, she was no longer there. Nothing could speak of her presence save a small mulberry bush nestled, almost protectively, amongst the tree's roots where she once lay. And although its pale berries steadily dripped a dark red juice, at least for the moment she was safe.

* * *

_  
He woke up to find himself surrounded by metal walls and cage bars, and his heart almost stopped cold; not even the terror he had felt in Germany, when he was about to be killed by an angry mob could compare to this. He looked down at himself and realized his uniform had been removed to be replaced by an old scruffy pair of plain baggy gray pants; and that was it, nothing else, like he was some animal that needed little more. _

_The first coherent thought that crossed his mind was to teleport the hell out of there; that was a very bad idea. Something around his neck gave a loud beep, and then a sharp stinging pain ran through his body. It didn't last very long, but when his mind processed the fact that his powers had been nullified, he went into a frenzy._

_He backpedaled on all fours, going in circles around his cage; searching everywhere, with no hope of finding an exit. He climbed the walls, ran around the ceiling, jump down to the floor, rattled the bars, climbed back up the walls; relieved to no end that not all his abilities were gone. He started murmuring in German to himself, without even realizing it, panic beginning to settle in, quickening his breathes. He tried to project his thoughts to the Professor, hoping, praying, refusing to believe that they wouldn't reach him. _

_Continuing his frantic trips around the various surfaces of his cell, he projected his thoughts so loudly his head began to hurt; although it could also have been due to the fact that not only had he begun saying them out loud — in German — but he was hardly breathing anymore. He was getting dizzy from lack of oxygen, although he supposed that going around in endless circles did not help any, and the room began to tilt and spin on an axis. _

_A door slammed open and he heard voices, but he could no longer see straight. His instincts took over, and they told him to seek out the darkest shadows within reach, close his eyes, and hold very still. It had always been rather effective in helping him out of sticky situations before. However, the darkest shadow lay in the top right corner of the room near the ceiling; and suffering from vertigo as he was now, he just couldn't seem to get his body to obey him and climb up to his hiding spot in an timely, efficient manner. _

_He quite literally flopped off the wall before he felt someone grab and pull him by his tail, just as he was about to make a second attempt. Not only was the gesture __**extremely **__painful, but personally insulting to Kurt, and in his irrational state of mind, his reaction was simply a reflex to the offending stimulus. He whipped around and lashed out at whatever pulled his tail. Unfortunately, it happened to be a guard; a very strong guard who had been sent in, along with three others to break him into his new home. _

_He managed to sink his fangs into something fleshy, before a strong grip from behind his neck managed to grasp the pressure points behind his jaw and squeeze until he almost passed out, much less let go of the guard he was biting. No sooner did his back hit the floor, did someone decide it would be fun to brutally stomp on his stomach. If he was having trouble breathing before, he couldn't breathe __**at all **__now. Another sharp kick rolled him over onto his side; and he curled up into a fetal position trying to get some air into oxygen starved lungs. _

_He felt something hold him firmly in place, as something else took hold of left arm. Air found its way back into his lungs the moment he felt an intense burning heat on his arm. Whatever it was, dug deep into his skin, and Kurt struggled wildly, howling in agony as the smell of seared flesh drifted into the air. The heat was removed, but the awful burning sensation remained, throbbing painfully with his wildly beating heart._

_He was let go briefly, and in that instant, he managed to squirm out of the grasp of whatever was attacking him, and scramble halfway up the wall towards that blessed shadow; but the thing around his neck began to shock him before he got too far. This one was stronger than the last, and he lost his grip on the wall, sliding to the floor with a pained cry._

_By the time awful thing was finally shut off, he was shuddering and gasping in pain. He heard something being said to him, but his brain was too busy telling Kurt how much pain he was in to process the words. He was lifted by the scruff at his neck and brought face to face with a human being, his foggy vision unable to make out the details. He was still being spoken to, hardly understanding a word said, until he caught the word 'demon__**.'**__ Demon? They were calling him a demon too?_

_Unbidden, countless awful memories resurfaced at the word; all of the times he had been rejected and persecuted for his admittedly frightening appearance. He felt hurt, angry, confused and in pain, his mind was working on autopilot, and gave him only two options; flight or fight. He suddenly remembered he wasn't the frightened, weak, little German boy he used to be; he was one of the X-men now, and he wouldn't go down without a fight. With a strength he didn't know he possessed, he freed himself from his abuser's grip. The guards were stunned to say the least; it was like they had gone from kicking around a frightened kitten, to picking a fight with a fierce wild cat. _

_The first thing that went flying, was the small remote control for the device around his neck; but everyone was too busy to notice it slide across the floor through the bars into the next cage, or the pale little hand that quickly grabbed it and stuffed it in one of its long sleeves. _

_More than one guard soon followed the remote's example, kicked away by the flourish of blue movement, getting hit, but hitting right back. The guards were obviously used to docile puppies, who would take a beating and come back for more. Nightcrawler was like an anomaly to them. They had been told that he would be difficult to break, but they were not exactly expecting to face off with an infuriated demon. They had better be getting hazard pay for this. Managing to extricate himself from the wild fray against the blue demon, a frustrated guard searched for the collar remote; he wanted to teach this mutant scum his place. He checked the cell floor, looking every where but finding no trace of it. Pissed off, he looked around suspiciously at the other prisoners in the room. _

_The cage directly across held a strange girl lying on her stomach on her metal bed, propped up on her elbows, looking as bored as could be, while she examined the ends of a tendril of long black hair she held in front of her face. The next cage over held another young girl, huddled up in the nearest corner, arms wrapped around her legs and face hidden behind her knees, long waves of green hair cascading around her huddled form as she rocked manically back and forth. The cage next door held a young man sitting against the farthest wall, whispering very quietly to a small frightened child he had cradled in his arms. The guard's suspicious eyes settled on the two likely culprits, now thoroughly infuriated, but they would have to wait. He returned his attention to the struggle with the new detainee, a dangerous glint in his eyes; there was more than one way to skin a demon. _

_Kurt managed to kick a guard hard in the crotch, before a fist flew straight into his jaw. He lost his balance for a single instant, but that was all the guards needed. His face met the floor, then arms were holding him down; and despite his furious struggling he could not slip free. Finally, someone reached for his neck, there was a soft click, and his world promptly narrowed to a single sensation; __**pain**_

_Kurt emitted an animalistic yowl, convulsing violently as wave after wave of pure electrical agony pulsed throughout his body. He groaned, choked, gagged, and howled, twisting and curling his convulsing body into inhuman positions, clawing desperately at the device trying to find any reprieve from the pain. By the time it stopped he lay limp, twitching, and barely conscious on the floor, an easy target for the guards to vent their anger and aggression on; and vent they did._

_He didn't remember losing consciousness, but he remembered regaining it. Someone was yelling, upset that his new 'subject' had very nearly been beaten to death. It was utterly unacceptable to deal so much damage to such valuable laboratory __**property**__. It was at that point that Kurt realized he was not dreaming; this was not some god-awful nightmare; he was __**not**__ going to wake up in his cozy bed, in his spacious room, in the Professor's sprawling mansion. _

_He heard his cell door open, and could not help but cringe at the thought that it could be another round with the guards; instead a shadow fell across him as someone loomed overhead, and he heard voices._

_Someone made a noise of disgust, "Ugh! Clean him up. I need him fully functional for tomorrow's testing."_

_Someone kneeled down just beside him, but he didn't dare look up and acknowledge the presence. Then the person reached out and brushed his bangs aside, running a finger gingerly over the deep cut on his right temple. He flinched violently, from both fear and pain, and tried to back away only to scream as a blinding pain ran throughout his body; he suspected he had more than a few broken bones. He fell back to the floor with a strained groan, tears leaking from his eyes, gagging slightly against the urge to vomit. Then the strangest thing happened._

_He felt the person gently lift his head and shoulders, and he soon found his head pillowed in a warm lap. He slowly dragged his teary golden eyes up, and they would have widened if the swelling would have allowed. He was looking into the face of another mutant, unable to stop himself from staring at the young girl looming above him. In his lifetime, Kurt had very seldom come across other mutants with physical mutations as serious as his own; but when he did, it was only then that he remembered that he was not alone. The girl above him was a dull ashy green from head to toe; even her clothes and hair were the same color. The single exceptions were the soft, forlorn mahogany eyes that looked straight back into his golden pair._

"_Who are you?" Kurt asked after a moment, voice strained. _

"_Silence!" Kurt jumped and whipped his eyes to the side as a long cane was slammed down onto the floor near his shoulder, the voice then addressed the girl, "You! Be quick about it!"_

_Kurt looked back at the girl above him and her eyes seemed to sadden a bit more. Without saying a word, the girl placed both hands over his heart. _

"_Vas are you — Aaaack!!" Kurt was about to object when a searing pain enveloped his entire body, making him curl up, screaming in agony._

_An emerald light encased both mutants and he saw through hazy vision what seemed like small leaves and white petals float into the air around him, shining as brilliantly as diamonds before dissolving into the green light. The glow slowly dimmed, his pain ebbing away along with it into a calm soothing sensation that left him sobbing with relief. The girl laid him gently back on the floor, and took his blue-furred tridactyl hand in a small, green, four-fingered hand of her own. Kurt felt her discreetly slip him something round and he met her soft brown eyes that pleading him to act natural._

"_Alright! Get it out!" the doctor finally ordered, and the girl meeped as she was pulled roughly onto her feet and pushed out of Kurt's cell. _

_The guard practically dragged her down the short passage and shoved her into her cell at the end. She lost her balance, and landed on her hands and knees with a soft 'oomph,' before skittering as far from the cell door and the guard as the small cage would allow. Her cell was slammed shut, Kurt's followed soon after, then the uniformed men exited the cell block, the metal door separating it from the rest of the facility coming shut with a loud clang._

_Waiting long after the sound of the footsteps faded, Kurt sat up and inspected himself. The girl's method of healing had hurt like hell, but he was good as new! There wasn't a scratch left on him, no scars or any signs that he had been very nearly beaten to death. He suddenly remembered the object the girl had placed in his hand, and quickly looked at it. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he saw the blessed round red fruit in his hands; he ate that apple so fast that he almost swallowed it whole. Remembering his manners he neared the front of his cell, seeing the girl in the cell diagonally across from his._

"_Pssst . . . Please excuse me, Fräulein," Kurt called across the passage dividing their cells. She looked over at him from where she sat huddled in the far corner, chin on her knees, eventually lifting a hand and pointing at herself, eyes uncertain. Kurt got the urge to chuckle, but he held back; he somehow got the feeling it would only upset the other mutant. Suddenly, he wasn't quite sure how to go about this._

"_I just vanted to say . . . Vielen Dank," he told her, feeling that the simple 'thank you' was not really adequate. The girl's eyes widened and she quickly hid her face behind her knees. _

"_Hey, vait a minute. Don't be so shy!" Kurt grimaced to himself, perhaps he was frightful looking even to other visible mutants. It would not have surprised him. _

"_At least tell me your name," Kurt pleaded softly, but the girl's curtain of hair swayed around her as she shook her head no. Kurt frowned, feeling dejected and a little miffed as he looked at the girl across the hall, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice spoke up from behind him._

"_She cannot speak," said a soft baritone. Kurt whipped around toward the direction the voice had come from._

_He was almost surprised to see two more mutants occupying the cell beside his. He had been in such a panic when he first awoke, that he hadn't even noticed that he was not alone in the room full of cages; and it had been so quiet since the guards left, that he had assumed that he and the girl were the only prisoners. _

_He supposed that the voice belonged to a young man sitting against the back wall of his cell; wild untamable auburn hair falling into his serious almond-shaped eyes the color of rubies. He had three red strips on his face, two across his right cheek, and one over his left that contrasted boldly against his golden olive skin. His black eye, split lip, and various other scrapes and bruises indicated that he had recently had a scuffle with the guards. The entire combination would have given the young man a dangerous air, were it not for the pale, delicate child sitting on his lap. Were he in any other place, in any other situation, Kurt would have laughed at the ridiculous sight. _

"_Anastasia," the stranger murmured._

"_Vas?" Kurt looked back up at the young man._

"_Her name," the boy said simply. Kurt turned back to the green girl across the room; one brown eye had been peeking through the curtain of hair, but ducked back down quickly when he met its gaze. _

"_Can she understand us?" Kurt asked, and couldn't help gulping when those red eyes narrowed into an unsavory glare. _

"_She's mute. Not daft," he answered pointedly. _

"_Sorry," Kurt chuckled nervously, "Stupid question."_

"_Indeed."_

"_Niisan," a small wavery voice interjected, "Don't be mean."_

_The young man frowned down at the pale child in his lap, and Kurt followed his gaze. He stared for a long moment, before he decided that he could not tell if the child was a boy or a girl. He heard a throat cleared loudly, and looked up at the annoyed red-head._

"_He is a boy," he stated in a flat tone that conveyed just how tired he was of having to say so. Kurt couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he settled on the floor, picking at his pants idly. _

"_So . . . vas are your names?" he dared to ask eventually._

"_You know," a feminine voice with a French accent suddenly spoke up from across the hall, "It is very rude to ask for a name without 'aving given your own. But I wouldn't expect anything else from a German __**dog**__."_

_Kurt's tail twitched briefly in annoyance before he turned around, golden eyes narrow, "Nightcrawler, and you are?"_

"_Cambrant," she answered with an air of superiority, lounging lazily on a metal plank in her cell, hunter green eyes as luminous as his own golden pair. It was not too hard to decipher from her hateful stare, that the French girl did not like Germans; well that was one less friend to count on. He turned back to the two boys in the cage beside his._

"_Hajimemashite, I'm Neutral," the boy said before Kurt could ask, then looking down at the child, "This is Kyoumu, yoroshiku onegaishimasu."_

_Kurt nodded, and fell into another awkward silence. He felt sick, more than a little scared, and even though he was surrounded by people, he still felt alone in the strange prison without his friends. Kurt suddenly sat up and turned around, grabbing the cage bars behind him._

"_Vere there any others brought here, or maybe somewhere else?" he asked the auburn haired boy urgently, golden eyes wide with fear._

_The boy looked at him silently for a long moment, a strange unidentifiable emotion flickering in his ruby eyes, "You were with friends when they found you?"_

"_Ja, please tell me if anyone else vas brought in!"_

_The young man became stoic, and was quiet for a while, "This is the onry cell brock. If your friends had been captured arive, they would have been brought here." _

_Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, before he processed what he'd been told, "Vas do you mean alive?"_

"_Corpses are just as useful to them as rive specimen. There is no guarantee that your friends escaped unscathed," he answered, his voice low and monotone._

_Kurt thought he would be sick. He looked down at the swaying floor but did not move from his spot. His mind was spinning with the possibility that his friends, his __**family**__, could be dead. He heard a twang of metal, then some shuffling, followed by some soft words he couldn't understand. Then someone touched his arm and he looked up — just a little too quickly, accidentally meeting with a wide pair of slitted violet eyes. In that split second Kurt saw what he had been dreading, but had not dared to let himself imagine, just moments ago. Images of the X-men flashed vividly in his mind, each one dying a horrible death. _

"_NEEEIIIIN!!" he reeled back, covering his face with a long loud cry of denial, and as soon as it appeared, the frightening vision dissipated. _

_He gave a few dry heaves, breaking out into a cold sweat, as he fought to keep the meager contents of his stomach down, trembling violently and gasping for breathe. He blinked several times, looking around at the dimly lit cell room he was in once again, eyes wide and watery. He heard someone sobbing, and looked back to the cage beside him. The little boy with the frightening violet eyes was bowed low on the ground, forehead nearly touching the floor, his little body shaking with sobs. _

_He was repeating something over and over in a language Kurt couldn't understand. He watched bewildered as the young man picked the child up off the floor and enveloped him in a protective embrace, allowing him to cry into his shoulder as he murmured to him softly in Japanese. _

"_I am trury sorry," the red head apologized after a few moments, pausing to pick up something the little boy had dropped, "He cannot control his power."_

"_I thought zat these collars suppressed our powers," Kurt said with a slight tremor in his voice, still breathing hard, and shaking like a leaf._

"_They __**do**__," Neutral replied, the seriousness in his ruby eyes silencing any protests Kurt may have had, "Here . . . he was just trying to give you this. It is from Ana-san."_

_Kurt stared at the sobbing child in morbid amazement for a moment before taking the small object being handed to him without question. If the boy could induce such a horrid vision while his power was being tightly suppressed, he did not want to imagine what he would have seen if the child had had free reign of his abilities. He finally tore his eyes away from the kid and looked down at the object in his hand._

_It was a flat, brown, football shaped bean. Kurt looked up across the hall to the young girl confused as to why she would want him to have this; but she had gone back to her huddle and would not look up. _

"_Keep that somewhere safe, and chew and swallow it tomorrow as soon as __**they **__come for you. It will deaden the pain, not compretery, but enough to make it bearable," Neutral explained to him. He had moved to lean against the wall again, still comforting the crying child. Kurt looked down again at the bean, then around the room in a daze._

"_Zis is not a dream is it?" he eventually asked in a shaky voice, looking straight into dark ruby eyes._

_The young man shook his head solemnly, saying nothing, offering no consolation, simply confirming the cold truth of his predicament. Kurt felt something wither inside of him and he was finding it hard to swallow past the lump in his throat. Looking back to the dark shadow in the top corner of the cell, he slowly made his way up the wall until he was curled up into a little ball hanging upside down from the ceiling; he wrapped his tail around himself, hid is fuzzy face in his tridactyl hands and cried himself, very softly, to sleep.

* * *

_

Kurt sat hidden from view on a high branch in one of the giant trees that covered the mountainside. The branches protected him from the rain that pelted the world outside the dense foliage, but he had had no cover when he had dragged himself and Kyoumu to said tree and up into its branches. As a result he was soaked to the bone and shivering violently, looking like a wet cat that had just been thrown into a bath of ice water, as the small child in his lap continued to wail; his heart breaking sobs not quite drowned out by the pounding rain.

Kyoumu choked on a sob, coughing harshly for several moments before gasping for breath and continuing his anguished cries. Kurt shifted on the branch into a more comfortable position, moving the child along with him; who was no help, his little body limp as a boned fish, concentrated solely on wrenching the pain that racked his little heart through his mournful wailing. Kurt really wished he would shut up.

He had imagined their escape dozens upon dozens of times. He had insisted to the others that they would be found by his friends the X-men, and rescued; or that they themselves might plan and attempt an escape. But he had never figured that it would have been like this. He had never realized how truly cruel Cambrant was at heart. He had never imagined that sweet, gentle Botany could have such a violent temper. He had never counted on Neutral being so noble. And he had never prepared himself to handle Jagan's unstable emotions and precarious mental state.

Kyoumu choked once more, coughing for a very long period of time, until Kurt finally had to pat him on the back before he could breathe easily once again. The child immediately continued his tormented sobs. Kurt felt numb; and it was not just from the freezing cold.

A twig snapped a short distance away, and Kurt's right ear twitched. Looking through the thick branches and peering into the water-logged darkness, he scanned the direction the sound had come from. He caught a flicker of movement followed by the light of a bright lantern. Nightcrawler immediately covered Kyoumu's mouth to muffle his cries, praying that the child would calm down long enough for the rangers to continue past them without discovering them.

The rangers passed under them, continuing in the direction of the lab's ruins. Nightcrawler waited many long moments before he dared to uncover Kyoumu's mouth; but the second he did he regretted it. Kyoumu let out a wail so loud he feared that the rangers might return to investigate. He tried to shush and comfort him as his brother once did, but the child was utterly inconsolable; pretty soon, Kurt felt like crying himself. Suddenly Kurt remembered something that could possibly soothe even a little of the child's pain.

Kurt began to hum a very familiar tune soft and low, and soon began to sing the lullaby Fuhen would put Kyoumu to sleep with every night; knowing that his accent must have sounded horrible, but continuing in hopes of comforting the child. Kyoumu's harsh sobs were quieting slowly as he began to recognize the song Kurt was singing to him.

"_Totemo ureshikatta yo, kimi ga warai kakede ta_

_Subete o tokasu chou emi de_

_Haru wa mada tookute, tsumetai tsuchi no naka de_

_Me fuku toki o matte ta 'n da_

_Tatoeba kurushii kyou da to shite mo_

_Kinou no kizu o nokoshite ite mo_

_Shinjitai, kokoro hodo ite yukere to_

_Umare kawaru koto wa dekinai yo_

_Dakedo kawatte wa ikeru kara_

_Let's Stay Together itsu mo . . . "_

Kurt found himself choking up, no longer able to continue the song Fuhen had so painstakingly taught him; '_in case something ever happened_' he had told Kurt. He had implicitly asked Kurt to look after Kyoumu if the day ever came when he would not be able to; but looking at the fairly calmer boy in his arms, he didn't think he could handle the responsibility, much less live up to Fuhen's expectations.

Kurt took several deep breaths, struggling to maintain a calm exterior. It wouldn't do to upset Kyoumu after he had finally settled down. But inside, he was sinking into a deep depression he wasn't sure he would ever slip out of. He wasn't sure he could ever go back to being the same old Kurt. He didn't know where to go or what to do; he had never felt so lost.

Many long moments passed as they sat huddled in the tree in silence, before another snap of twigs alerted Nightcrawler to a new presence. He pulled the now quiet boy closer to him. And peered once more through the foliage, but could not see anything. The fur on the back of his neck rose, and his instincts told him that there was indeed someone down there. Suddenly he heard a quick murmur followed by an annoyed shushing sound.

"C'mon out, elf. I know you're up there," he heard a wonderfully familiar voice say gruffly.

Kurt dared to hope, "H-herr Logan?"

"Yea, kid. C'mon down here."

"I-I can't," was all Kurt could say.

"Kurt! Stop being a wuss now! Get down here this instant, ya hear?" another familiar if slightly wavery voice called. He wanted to believe so badly, but a small cynical part of him was screaming that it could all still be a trap.

He heard a familiar shing soundfollowed by some curses, and the audible thunks of Wolverine's claws digging into the tree signaling that he was coming up there to get him down by force if necessary. The branches beside him were soon brushed away as Wolverine arrived at the branch he sat upon, and pinned him with an almost gentle glare. However, Kyoumu could not tell the difference between Wolverine's gruff facial expressions, and the once calm child whimpered and began to cry anew.

"Ack! Kyoumu . . . _Bitte_, stop crying," Kurt begged, voice strained, almost wanting to cry himself, out of suppressed fear, out of grief, and now out of relief.

The little boy just cried harder starting ask for his 'Niisan.' At this Logan looked surprised for an instant, realizing that the strange child was Japanese. He asked Kyoumu a question that Kurt could not understand. Kyoumu struggled to respond but couldn't do so through his tears.

"What happened to his brother?" Logan directed the question at Kurt. The blue elf's golden eyes filled with pain and sorrow for a moment, before he looked away shaking his head, unable to answer out loud either. Logan turned back to the child and said something to him. Kyoumu started sobbing in earnest then.

"Ack!" Kurt cried in surprise, "Volverine! Vas did you do?!"

"Don't worry about it, here giv'em to me. You can climb down by yourself can't ya?" he asked, looking suspiciously at the soaking wet, rather rumpled looking elf.

At Kurt's nod, Logan took the child from him, and they headed by down the tree to the earth below. Letting go of the last branch he had been hanging from by his tail, Kurt landed on the soft, muddy earth on all fours. He looked up to find Rogue standing in the rain before him.

"Is zis a dream?" he asked her, voice threaded with disbelief.

"Naw. This is the real thing," she answered, kneeling down in front of him, placing her gloved hands on his bare shoulders.

"Gott sei Dank," he replied, voice cracking as he hung his head, and started shaking badly.

"Hey, hey," she said gently in a choked voice, pulling him into a careful hug, "It's alright, now. We're here, your safe."

Kurt hugged her back tentatively, but as his shaking worsened his hold tightened until he was sobbing into her clothed shoulder as she soothingly ran a gloved hand through his wet matted hair. After several long minutes, he managed to calm down, somewhat embarrassed of himself.

"There now," Rogue comforted him, "C'mon, we better get you home. Ya look like ya been dragged 'round the yard."

Kurt managed a chuckle, as he stood up with her, relief flooding him completely. He looked over at Wolverine, who still held Kyoumu in his arms. The little boy was still sniffling and whimpering occasionally, tears leaking steadily from his red swollen eyes, but he had quieted; Kurt's breakdown having shocked him into a tentative silence.Wolverine stood still, sniffing audibly.

"Hey, elf. There any more of you around here?" he asked slowly, still sniffing out the scent he'd caught, "Smells like . . . mix 'a Earth, water, and some kinda strange flora I've never smelled before."

"Wolverine, y'all in forest, in the rain, stomping 'round in mud," Rogue pointed out sarcastically.

"Don't get smart," he growled back, but when Kyoumu whimpered again, he continued a bit more calmly, "This scent is distinct from everything else around here. It's definitely human."

"Botanik . . . "

"What?" the older mutant asked.

"It has to be Botanik! She vas one of the others here," Kurt exclaimed, glad that the young girl was now free of the wretched place as well.

Wolverine sniffed again, "Well, we better get to her fast. Those forest rangers are heading straight toward her."

* * *

"What the hell happened here?" asked a forest ranger. The smoke coming from the ruins had attracted the forest fire crew; and they were all baffled when they arrived. Every thing was in peak condition, while the unidentified building was a wreck.

The rangers murmured to each other as they continued investigating the wreckage. One of the five crouched down to get a better look at something near the forest's edge; against the background of blackish debris, it was very conspicuous. There was a small trail of _green_, making a bee line into the trees. He followed it slowly, while the others dug around the remains of the building, until he came across something strange.

A small mulberry bush was nestled among the roots of a huge tree; or at least it looked like a mulberry bush. However, its berries were so pale that they could pass for white, and the leaves were gray and withered. This plant was showing signs that it actually suffered some damage from the explosion; but if so, why wasn't anything else around it burned? He took a hold of one of its branches to examine it more closely; it immediately excreted a thick sticky sap.

"Ugh! Gross!" he quickly withdrew his hand; it came away _red_. All around the bush, the earth was soaked in the same thick red liquid. Suddenly, the bush moaned and started to rustle. The ranger backed away hastily and called the others over. They watched perplexed, and wary as the bush morphed into a small girl.

"By the — "

"Oh my god!"

"What the hell is that?"

* * *

She heard their voices as she was coming to; muffled and far away. But when she slowly opened her eyes, and her vision cleared, she could not help gasping in terror. She was surrounded by a bunch of men in uniforms — yet _again_. She backed up against the tree with difficulty.

"It's a mutant!" one ranger shouted, "That's what did all this! Bet it was just waiting for us to get here so we could be its next victims! We have to get rid of it!!" he raised his rifle.

Her eyes widened in fear and she whimpered; then, she felt something deep inside her flicker to life once more. She let out a terrified sob. It was going to happen again, and she was powerless to stop it. She buried her hands in her hair and screamed in agony as the emerald light shot forth unbidden and unwanted.

"Look at that!"

"Holy shit!!"

"It's gonna destroy us all!" the ranger with the rifle yelled. He cocked it and fired.

* * *

Wolverine instructed Kurt and Rogue to head toward Botany, while took the little boy back to the blackbird where Storm would watch over him, and take care of his injuries. By the time the two siblings reached the lab's ruins the Rangers were all heading into the forest, following a suspicious green trail. Nightcrawler feared for his friend's safety.

"Schnell," he said to Rogue, "Let's follow them."

He teleported them a safe distance behind the uniformed men in the midst of the rubble. They split up and followed after them quickly. Rogue hid behind some saplings and watched, while Nightcrawler bamfed onto a tree branch not far away. The rangers were all looking or pointing at something, but from their vantage points they could not see what it was clearly. Nightcrawler ported closer to the scene, when suddenly the forest was lit by an emerald light. Rogue pulled out her communicator to alert the other X-men, but it immediately started to get overgrown with plants.

**  
"Cyclops! We've found Kurt, and another one of his friends. But the gal's in trouble, and I don't think she's got much control of her powers right now. Hello?! Ya there? We — " **Rogue shouted as she tried to rub off the growth all over the comm. Nightcrawler paid no attention but moved closer to the rangers, tail lashing anxiously. One of them had a rifle out, and he was pretty sure who it was pointed at.

**". . . Rogue . . . What's . . . **_**Rogue!**_**" **Cyclops' voice became choppy as the comm burst apart into a flurry of leaves and twigs.

"Dang!! Nightcrawler we're on our own! Nightcrawler? Wait! What are — " She looked over to where he was headed, saw the armed ranger, and mentally cursed her adopted brother for being so noble.

* * *

"Something's not right," Cyclops said worriedly; he didn't like the eerie green glow in the distance. Their comm link to Rogue and Nightcrawler was now severed, and they had sounded like they were in trouble. He alerted the others while Jean tried to locate Rogue and Nightcrawler.

"Jean, have you found them?" he asked her.

"They're about a quarter mile South from here," Jean answered as she scanned the area telepathically. Her eyes suddenly shot open, she gasped loudly, visibly shaken.

"Jean!" Cyclops rushed over to her.

"That light, it's the girl. She's in danger; and Kurt, he was — "

A gunshot interrupted her mid-sentence. The two looked at each other, and ran towards the light as Scott called for the others back up.

* * *

She stared helplessly through the cursed light at the ranger with the rifle. It was as if everything was in slow motion; there was no escape. She watched as he cocked the gun, then pulled the trigger. She prepared herself for the pain and her death, when suddenly a cloud of smoke appeared before her; and she was shielded from harm by a golden eyed boy with elfish ears and soft blue fur.

* * *

**Translations:** _I don't know German, I've only started learning Japanese, and my French is really rusty so please excuse any mistakes in syntax or meaning. Some of these are no brainers, but whatever._

_Fräulein_ — Miss

_Vielen Dank_ — Thank you very much

_Ja_ — Yes

_NEEEIIIIN!!_ — NOOO

_Herr_ — Mister

_Bitte_ — Please

_Gott sei Dank_ — Thank God

_Schnell_ — Quick

_Hajimemashite . . . yoroshiku onegaimshimasu_ — Standard greeting, basically means: How do you do . . . Pleased to meet you.

**Anime fans might recognize the song I used; it's the Fruits Basket theme. The translation is from Anime Lyrics:**

_Totemo ureshikatta yo, kimi ga warai kakede ta — _I was so happy, you were laughing

_Subete o tokasu chou emi de — _With a smile that melts everything away

_Haru wa mada tookute, tsumetai tsuchi no naka de — _Spring is still far away, inside the cold earth,

_Me fuku toki o matte ta 'n da — _Waiting for the time to sprout

_Tatoeba kurushii kyou da to shite mo — _For instance, even if today is painful

_Kinou no kizu o nokoshite ite mo — _And yesterday's wounds remain

_Shinjitai, kokoro hodo ite yukere to— _I want to believe that I can free my heart and go on

_Umare kawaru koto wa dekinai yo — _I cannot be reborn

_Dakedo kawatte wa ikeru kara — _But I can change as I go on, so

_Let's stay together itsu mo . . . — _Let's stay together always

**A/N: **I chose the Fruits Basket theme because it's melancholy, but hopeful at the same time, and even if it doesn't make sense now it will later. Chapter four will contain the brothers' past, which will make the song have more sense. (And also explain why they have different last names — Paksennarion had asked about that! ; ) Well, thanks for reading and please review!!


	3. Of Vine and Brimstone

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X-Men: Evolution characters. They are all property of Marvel and I am using them in this story without permission. Don't sue me!!

**A/N:** Wow, Japanese is _really _hard to learn . . . Sorry for taking so long to update but seriously, I've been frying my brain!! Do y'all see a pattern developing? Here is another delightful little A/N which my or may not have to do with this particular chapter.

_ABOUT ANA'S POWERS_: Before anyone questions my originality, I must mention that this OC is based entirely on the little Forest Nymph from the Firebird Suite in Disney's Fantasia 2000 (the most BEAUTIFUL segment of the movie, in my humble opinion). So if you've been wondering what Ana looks like, skin tone and ability-wise, she's very similar to the Nymph. As for facial features-- basically characteristic to the drawing style of X-Evo, leaning more towards the style of Kitty's features, rather than Jean's.

— _La Loba_

_  
_**WARNING**: This story in general deals with abuse and has some mildly graphic violence. Thus the rating PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you, or you don't like it, then don't read this story. You have been warned.

**Bold — **telepathically communicated, or spoken through comms

* * *

**Botanik**

By: _La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 3: _Of Vine and Brimstone_

The cold rain poured heavily onto the eerily quiet pine forest; the only sound heard were the haunting howls of wind. Black shadows moved quickly and silently through the dense woods toward the sight of the explosion. The mutants were at large, that much they knew; and they would pay dearly for they're little act of rebellion.

Not too far away, she stood leaning against the trunk of a large tree, whistling a long remembered song from her childhood. The thick pine boughs above her blocked the rain, redirecting it to fall in curtains to the ground off the ends of its lower branches far from the tree's core. She waited patiently, for they were sure to come; an especially ruckus party like this one always attracted the officials.

Footsteps began echoing softly in the forest; right on cue.

She continued her whistling as they gathered around her, at least twenty; but she ignored them, waiting for the boss to arrive. She interrupted her own whistling with a laugh; this was going to be great.

"Cambrant."

Ah! There he was. She smiled like a grinch and turned to the tall, raven-bearded man clad in all black.

"Bonsoir, monsieur!" she greeted cheerfully.

"Wipe that smile off your face, girl. Explain this."

The French girl kept her smile in place, "Ehhh bien . . . Dr. Tomoe bit off more zan 'e could chew it seems. Notre petite Botanique 'as quite ze foul little temper. You see, she threw a wild tantrum and ripped tout l'endroit apart!"

The man frowned at the green-eyed girl as began giggling merrily while she continued reporting the events of the day.

"I'm afraid all of your employees took a permanent leave sans notice. M45 is probablement lying dans un ash pile somewhere in ze wreckage. M17 took M97 on a blind teleport; chances are zey rematerialized dans un arbre. As for M42 . . . Hmm, with 'is black thumb, je suis certain zat 'e won't make very good fertilizer — " Cambrant abruptly cut off as she was grabbed beneath the chin and slammed back into the tree trunk behind her. The metallic taste of blood slowly filled her mouth; she must have bitten her cheek.

"I fail to see what is so damn amusing, Rondelle," the man practically spat in her face, "This isn't a game. It is not for you to decide who is, or isn't worthy of this project. You are to track those who are alive, and bring them back to me."

He pulled Rondelle off the tree trunk by her jaw and shoved her out from underneath the branches and into the rain. She stumbled but managed to catch herself before she fell, standing still and silent in the rain, back toward the man who governed her life.

"I suggest you wise up, Rondelle. I don't need a collar to control you. _Remember _that."

Without turning, or giving any sign of acknowledgment, she tore open the space before her, disappearing with a loud zip and a flash of indigo.

* * *

The emerald light dimmed ever so slightly when she saw his body jerk on the bullet's impact. There were angry and surprised shouts from the rangers behind her savior as he slumped forward slightly, catching himself on the tree behind her, glaring at the rangers over his shoulder. Ana looked from him to the alarmed rangers, her confusion and fear written clearly on her face. _  
_  
"Nightcrawler!" Rogue cried rushing toward her brother, revealing herself to the rangers in her panic.

At her appearance, however, the already disturbed ranger became trigger happy, screaming and shooting like a mad man in all directions in hopes of terminating the threatening mutants. Everyone ducked and dodged as they desperately tried to avoid his crazed aim; the other rangers shouting to their comrade, trying to bring him to his senses.

Rogue ducked quickly behind a tree, trying to judge her distance from the deranged man without losing a chunk of her face. Nightcrawler shrunk low to the ground, bringing Botany with him; the tree's roots rose around them defensively, blocking several stray bullets. Taking her chances, Rogue rushed the ranger as he turned his attentions back towards her brother, and daringly tackled him to the ground, hand glove-free and ready to make contact. Unfortunately his new angle from the ground, allowed him to bypass the barrier created by the giant tree's roots, and he managed one last clear shot just as he felt his strength drain away at Rogue's touch.

The other two mutants had yet to move from their spot; everything around them happening almost too fast to register. At the last second Nightcrawler noticed the bullet's trajectory;  
without warning, he hugged the glowing girl close to him and bamfed.

They had arrived just in time to miss the big finale to all the commotion, everyone coming from different directions. The remaining forest rangers got up to find themselves inadvertently surrounded by the X-Men; they looked around nervously. Rogue stood up, putting her glove back on as her teammates appeared out of the trees.

"Rogue! Nightcrawler! Wha — " Cyclops began worriedly.

"Don't worry, he's alive. But," she paused to give the now unconscious man a glare, before continuing to explain, "He took a hit, and he wasn't in too much of a good shape to begin with. He had ta teleport, and he took the gal with him. She was pretty beat up too. We better find 'em before anything else happens."

Everyone nodded in agreement, before turning to look at the curious and frightened rangers.

"Jean, if you would be so kind," the Beast stated as he turned to the psychic and waved vaguely at the uniformed men. Lifting her hands to her temples to concentrate, she slowly wiped the memories from each of the rangers' minds before giving them a gentle psychic shock to knock them unconscious.

"This never happened, gentlemen," she stated simply as she finished.

The X-men then quickly exited the scene, heading toward the Blackbird to search for their fuzzy elf from the air.

* * *

They disappeared in a puff of smoke, and suddenly all her exhaustion, pain, and nausea returned as the strange realm they were passing through extinguished the emerald light in a flash of red and black. The world swam and tumbled at the same time all around her; but it was over as soon as it had started, and they were back, in a different place, all within a second. Unfortunately for the injured two, Nightcrawler had reappeared in midair, making them topple in a heap to the ground several feet below.

The impact made her black out for a few seconds, as she laid there laboring to breathe through the pain. Without her fear of the strange men in uniforms as a catalyst, she could no longer fully manipulate her abilities; leaving her powerless to speed up the natural healing factors she possessed to soothe her trembling, aching body.

After a long while, she slowly opened her eyes and found herself in a clearing somewhere in a different part of the forest. But how in the world did she get there? It was almost as if she had . . . There was a sudden flash of blue and gold in her mind; _Kurt_! He must have had . . . But where was he?

She heard the sound of someone retching behind her.

Managing to roll over to face the other way, she saw him a few feet away. He was leaning on a tree at the edge of the small clearing, while he retched on the other side, his other arm dangling limply at his side, blood steadily pooling on the ground beneath it. He wiped his mouth when he finished and slumped slowly down the trunk to the ground below, breathing heavily.

Tucking his head between his knees, he buried a tridactyl hand in his indigo hair fighting against the dizziness. He hadn't been this sick since the very first time he ported. Exhaustion, starvation, blood loss, countless injuries, fear, shock, stress; all a million different, and very good reasons to back off his teleporting, but of course, life never really likes to give its participants a choice. Kurt felt cold shivers run through his body, and the fur along his spine stand on end as the bile rose up his throat, and his stomach lurched once more.

Several agonizing minutes later he was still dry heaving, and fighting off an incredible wave of dizziness that threatened to black him out. He pushed himself back on his haunches; but an unforgiving bout of vertigo forbid him to keep his feet, and he slumped back, smacking his head against the tree trunk behind him. A piercing cold ran through his body, and everything flashed white for several moments, before he felt the prick of the rain on his fur again.

He opened his eyes, and had to blink when a raindrop hit one dead on. He tried again more slowly, and realized he must have passed out when he looked up into the dark clouded sky. He stared at the dark raining masses in a daze, trying to recall how he had gotten there. Slowly was he remembering the traumatic events of the day, one by one, when he felt a light squeeze on his hand. He turned his head, ignoring the way the world spun; when his vision settled again, he was staring straight into a pair of tearful mahogany eyes.

On the ground beside him within arms reach, lay Botany pale as ash, and shivering more violently than he was in the freezing rain falling around them. Nightcrawler's heart leapt up into his throat.

"Botanik?" he asked tentatively, squeezing her hand back gently.

She closed her eyes momentarily, and he knew tears were running down her face, even as the rain was washing them away.

"Botanik," Kurt spoke softly to the pale mutant, "Mein friends are finally here! They've come to help us. Do you remember about them?"

She made a soft, tired noise of confirmation; her eyes sliding shut for a while before opening again. He sounded as if he was talking to her from underwater.

"They will find us soon; hang on until zen, kay?" he told her worriedly; she already looked so dead, it was beginning to frighten him.

Another tired noise was his answer, but he couldn't help panicking a bit when her eyes slid shut once again and did not reopen. He had often seen her come back to the cells, pale, and weak; but she had never looked like this. She literally seemed as if she might fall into a pile of ashes if she were just touched; the only color he could see on her was the brown of her eyes when she had opened them.

The freezing rain was not helping either of them, and Kurt argued with himself silently for several minutes. Was he strong enough to move them? Should he _chance _moving them under the cover of the trees? What if he injured them further in the process? They shouldn't stay out in the open like this, should they? What if the X-men passed them by because they couldn't see them through the foliage? But Wolverine could track them . . .

Growling softly to himself, he made up his mind, and forced himself to his feet. He picked up the pale mutant as gently, and as best as possible with his only good arm. She cried out in pain, but that was inevitable, and he apologized softly. He moved them slowly beneath the large branches of the nearest tree, to shield them, if only a little, from the pounding rain. He sat against the trunk, and settled the deathly looking girl against his side, trying to keep her warm, although his fur was soaked through and cold from the rain.

After a few minutes of silence, he jumped suddenly when he felt her poke him lightly in the ribs. Understanding what she wanted, he held his palm out in easy reach of her trembling fingers, allowing her to clumsily communicate her thoughts. But before she could finish, however, Kurt closed his fist gently around her pale, trembling hand.

"Cambrant . . . she escaped through one of her portals, and left us behind. Everything vas closing in . . . Fuhen saved us . . . " Kurt was finding it hard to continue, "I took Kyoumu vith me and ported out of there . . . Fuhen . . . he . . . he didn't — "

Botany sobbed, and Kurt knew that there was no need to continue, even if the lump in his throat would have allowed him to finish.

"Es tut ich leid, Kleine Blume," Kurt managed to choke out quietly, in a failed attempt at comfort.

He held her silently under the tree sheltering them for the pouring rain, as she sobbed softly. There was nothing to do but wait until the X-men found him once more; he wouldn't risk teleporting again. Soon the wind began picking up, and it seemed as if the downpour became even stronger, pounding down on the earth unyieldingly.

Nightcrawler didn't know how long they'd been sitting there before he heard a very familiar and most unwelcome sound, but it was long enough for Botany to have settled some; lying quiet and shivering beside the fuzzy teenager. His golden eyes peered warily through the dark waterlogged forest. The sound went off again, this time accompanied by a flash of indigo in the distance.

Cambrant.

The sounds of her portal-making ceased, but now he could hear the young French woman walking toward them through the forest. She stepped out of the trees and into the clearing opposite the two visible mutants, her luminous eyes the color of the evergreens surrounding them, crinkled with mirth, and her expression absolutely catty.

"Oh! là! là!" She giggled merrily as she walked across the clearing toward them. There was a flashing patch of black and indigo spiraling above her, into which the rain fell, but did not come out the other side, keeping the portal-maker high and dry, despite the torrential rain.

"Halt die Fressa, Cambrant," Nightcrawler stated low and menacingly.

"Ah!" Cambrant gasped and feigned hurt, "Mon cher Nightcralwer, I zought we were friends?"

"How dare you!" Nightcrawler couldn't help raising his voice; his eyes narrowed as the dark-haired girl just laughed, "Hören sie auf, um zu lachen!"

Cambrant laughter merely grew louder, "Mais, Nightcrawler, vous êtes trop drôle!"

"You leave a man to die, and all you do is laugh about it?!" he could feel the heat rising in his chest; his anger was activating his internal furnace. He rested the injured girl gently against the tree and struggled to his feet, left arm still limp and useless at his side. He had yet to master control of his new gift, and it wasn't uncommon for him to begin spouting flames during a heated conversation with the aggravating portal-maker. Cambrant's laughter abruptly stopped, and all expression left her face.

"Neutral died ze moment Botany lost control. Ze nature of 'is power made 'is escape impossible. So you see, I did not leave anyone to die. 'e simply committed inadvertent suicide," the girl's stoic mask suddenly cracked and she began laughing insanely as if she had just been told a hilarious joke.

Nightcrawler felt the smoke seep out of his mouth as he growled, "Enough of this, Cambrant! Vas are you doing here, and vas do you vant!"

"Temper! Temper!" she chuckled, "I merely 'ave some friends zat are dying to meet you."

He gasped, feeling fire catch in his throat, as he realized for the first time that they were not alone. Out of the dark shadows in the forest stepped several men in black uniforms. He'd seen them before in the labs, always escorting a visiting Project official. What the hell was going on? Cambrant had been a prisoner too; why would she help her captors? Then again, the bitch was crazy enough to find the entire ordeal amusing.

His breath quickened as he began to panic, moving to stand before Botany's small form; flames beginning to lick out of his mouth with each breath. The agents advanced toward him as he backed into the tree, drawing their rifle-like weapons in case their target became overly-hostile. Nightcrawler emitted a low warning growl, flames spewing slowly into the air, warning the uniformed men away.

Cambrant tsked at the blue-furred mutant, looking positively smug, "Come, come now Nightcrawler. Vous êtes très cher, don't make zem damage you."

"Sie gefährliche Hexe!" He hissed angrily at her, training glaring yellow eyes at her smug face, tail lashing furiously behind him. He looked at the withering girl behind him; they were cut off without escape. After everything they had suffered through, fate wouldn't be so cruel as to let them be recaptured, after finally attaining a taste of freedom; or would it?

His heart pounded almost painfully in his chest; he and Botany were in no condition to put up a fight. All he could do was buy some time, and pray that his friends would find him soon. Taking a deep breathe, Nightcrawler launched himself at the nearest agent. The man quickly cocked his weapon, and fired, only to miss his mark when a cloud of smoke was left in his target's wake, and a wall of flame came rushing toward him instead. The man ducked away with a surprised and angry shout.

"We thought you said that he was too weak to teleport!" he shouted angrily at the raven-haired mutant.

She merely raised and elegant coal brow, shrugging her shoulders and heaving a dramatic sigh, "Ahh, zut-alors . . . Eh bien, just shoot 'im then."

The man scowled at the irritating girl, but reached into his vest and pulled out a small black box. Opening it, he removed a dart-like object and loaded it into a gun he pulled from a holster in his combat boots. Training his aim on the elusive blue demon, he waited for his chance to strike.

Nightcrawler panted; his entire body ached, his wounded arm felt as if it were on fire, and he could barely see straight. His struggled to evade a stun ray fired at him from the nearest agent, teleporting once more in a fiery frenzy, reappearing behind two agents and introducing them unceremoniously to the muddy earth below their feet. He tried to fire off another flame wall, but his stomach heaved instead. His throat was already aching from his pyrotechnics; his new ability was still in its developing stages, and overuse quickly resulted in second and third degree burns to his mouth, lungs, and esophagus.

He turned in time to stop another man from mashing him with the butt of his rifle, delivering a solid kick to his stomach and knocking the wind out of him. Then he felt it; a prick just behind his shoulder.

"Verdammt!" he couldn't help growling a curse at his carelessness.

He quickly ripped the tranquilizing dart out when he heard Botany's frightened cry; he glanced in her direction to see the agent who shot him quickly closing in on the defenseless girl. He ported, appearing right before the man and greeting him with a fireball straight in the face. The man howled, falling backwards covering his burnt flesh.

Nightcrawler could feel the tranquilizer slowing time around him, as he hovered protectively over Botany, flaming breathe deep and agitated, and mind whirling trying to think of a way out of their inevitable recapture. There were still three able agents left standing, and they were closing in on him slowly, waiting for the tranquilizer to set in before going for the kill.

His breathe was coming in slow pants now, flames still licking his mouth, but his vision was starting to dim; he was finding it hard to stay standing, and those damned agents were almost on top of them. He nearly stumbled off his feet, catching himself as an agent tried to grab hold of him.

"Bleiben sie zurück!" he snarled, taking as deep a breathe as possible before releasing a rushing, unbroken torrent of fire in an arc around them. The molten barrage would have been very effective at warding off his enemies if the pounding rain were not dampening its range and power.

The demon-like mutant suddenly choked and gagged, cutting off his continuous torrent abruptly, and sinking to his knees and elbows. Smoke billowed in excess out of his burnt orifice as he hacked painfully, blood pooling heavily under his chin, mixing with the mud below him. He'd overdone it; now they were caught.

Just as he was loosing all hopes of freedom, a blinding red light shot across his vision and he heard the loud roar of a familiar set of engines. The flurry of movement was hard to make out through his drug and pain-induced haze. But he could make out the sounds of his team members voices, and battle cries. He fought to stay conscious, every breath pure agony to his seared respiratory system.

Cambrant looked up uninterestedly into the shadow of the black jet hovering over the small clearing. She stood back behind the trees, watching the so-called 'X-men' foil their mission to recapture M45 and M17. Back-up had been called and was on its way, but she doubted it would arrive on time. She yawned loudly suddenly very bored; with a small sigh, the air beside her ripped open and she disappeared with a soft zip, leaving the agents behind to do the dirty work.

"Fuzzy!" Kurt heard her voice and a rush of footsteps through a haze, but wasn't entirely convinced that he had really heard Shadowcat call him by his pet name.

He heard more shouting, and the sound of gunfire, suddenly he was being thrown over a large blue-furred shoulder, carried up a ramp and shoved inside the jet. A strange flattening sensation ran through him as they took off in a hurry, before they leveled off in the air, leaving his head spinning.

"Kurt! Like can you hear me? C'mon, Fuzzy, answer!" Kitty pleaded with the bedraggled looking boy crouched on the floor of the jet laboring to breathe through bloody coughing fits.

His insides felt as if they were on fire, and in all reality they probably were. He couldn't stop his vitriolic coughing or the blood pouring out of his mouth as he slumped into Kitty's arms.

"Kurt!" Kitty cried, panic evident in her voice, "You guys! Help him!"

He couldn't see anymore; the voices he heard were disembodied and coming from far, far away.

"Prease!! Ret her herp!! She can heal him!" a young tearful voice pleaded in the distance.

Someone responded but he could no longer understand. Just as the darkness was taking over completely, he felt a terrible burning throughout his body, his vision flashing green. He gasped loudly, eyes flying open as he found his arms full of Kitty Pryde.

"Kurt! Like, you're okay!" she laughed though her eyes were still shiny with unshed tears.

"Keety?" he asked unsure.

She smiled and nodded, then cried out surprised when he crushed her to him in a sudden embrace, but returned it just as strongly.

When she pulled back, she gave him a peck on the cheek and laughed; even though it wasn't really noticeable through his dark indigo fur, she knew he was blushing as he laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oi! Neesan! Onegai, Ana-chan!! Okite kudasai!!" he turned sharply when he heard Kyoumu's frightened cries to see the boy sobbing over Botany's unconscious form.

Kurt's heart skipped a beat as he remembered the green that had flashed before his vision when he almost passed out. He watched in a bit of a daze as Beast carried the girl into the tiny corner that served as the jet's infirmary, before snapping out of it and following after him. When he passed through the doorway he saw his professor place the deathly still mutant on the small cot that Storm pulled out of the wall.

"Kurt. Forgive me for not giving you a proper greeting, but your friend is not doing too well," the Beast said absently to the furry teenager hovering near him, trying to get a look at the pale girl.

"Vill she be alright? She's n-not dying, is she?" Kurt inquired anxiously to the two grown-ups.

He felt guilt starting to eat at him. She had been so hurt, and still she opted to heal him, when the action would only recoil upon her already deteriorated condition. A hand at his shoulder broke him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Storm looking down at him, expression something between sympathy and relief; she pulled him into a quick hug.

"It's so wonderful to have you back, Kurt!" she said quietly, brushing his wet disheveled hair behind a pointed ear, "Here you are; dry off and put these on, then wait up front with the others, please. We'll take care of your friend, alright?"

He nodded, taking the towels, and nice warm clothing Storm handed him. He noted with some delight that they were his own. He took his time before heading up to the front of the jet towards the other X-men. As soon as he walked in he was practically mobbed.

"Kurt! I oughtta knock ya inta next Tuesday! Next time ya gonna jump in front of a bullet, give me a warning!" Rogue scolded bonking him lightly on the head, but her tone was more relieved than anything, "Ya betta stop scarin' me like that or I'll hafta start makin' good on my promises, ya hear?"

He tried to pout, but he couldn't help breaking into a chuckle as he rubbed his head in mock hurt. The next thing he knew he was being tackled from behind by an overexcited Spyke, and he nearly lost his footing.

"Fuzzy-dude!" Evan laughed, "Man, you had us worried bad! Great to finally have ya back, man! No more disappearing aight?"

Kurt twisted out of the younger teen's grip and locked him in a noogie, laughing when he started squirming and yelling in protest. He let go eventually, as Cyclops approached him next, and an awkward silence settled in the room.

The team leader fidgeted a bit, looking his friend over before opening his mouth, "Kurt . . . I— "

"Don't apologize, Scott," Kurt interrupted quietly, "It's good to see you, mein freund."

He stepped forward and gave the older teen a hug. They clasped their right hands in a five as they pulled apart, laughing slightly.

"I never thought I'd say this, but your appetite at the dinner table was sorely missed!" Scott smiled when Kurt rewarded him with a booming laugh.

"Seriously, we needed somebody to eat all that food Kitty insisted on making," Jean added, stepping up to the laughing elf.

"Like, hey!" Kitty protested.

This only made Kurt laugh harder before he turned to the redhead with a wide smile. He noted that she held a nervous and still sniffling Kyoumu by the hand.

"Jean!" he greeted her with a hug as well.

"We missed you so much, Kurt," her voice wavered a bit as she stated the obvious knowing that he needed to hear it, as much as she needed to say it, before passing the crying child to him, "I think this little guy is a bit scared."

He looked sadly at the anxious child before crouching in front of him, "Kommen sie, Liebling."

Kyoumu rushed into his arms, burying his face in the crook of Kurt's neck, small shuddering breathes escaping from his tired body as he continued to cry softly. The child's wet rags had been removed and he was wearing what looked to be one of Kurt's old shirts, and wrapped in a warm blanket. The joy of reuniting with his friends had made him momentarily forget the awful events of earlier that day. But now as the small child, who had been his cellmate just this morning, trembled and cried in his arms, still mourning the death of his brother; as the quiet murmurs and sounds of Beast and Storm, working to keep the battered girl alive, drifted forward from the rear of the jet, reality came crashing back onto him.

His warm clothes suddenly couldn't keep the deep coldness that had settled within him from making him shiver once more. He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat, looking up at his friends.

"Vill we be home soon?" he asked quietly.

Looking down at their fuzzy elf, the X-men could not help but think how small and unsure Kurt looked in that instant; or how the cheerful light that had shined in his eyes just moments ago had been snuffed out to be replaced by a lost, and haunted gaze that did not belong in those golden orbs.

Jean placed a hand on his head bending down to look him in the face, brow furrowed with worry, but her smile reassuring, "Yes, Kurt. We'll be home very soon."

He nodded, averting his eyes to the floor to avoid her searching gaze. He stood, carrying Kyoumu, and let Cyclops guide him to a seat. Kitty and Rogue settled on either side of him, as the other three took their seats across from his.

Wolverine looked over his shoulder from the pilot seat, checking on the teenagers as they buckled up for the trip back to the institute, before speeding up the jet as much as he dared. Beast had quietly commed him, informing him of the urgency of the girl's condition. The elf had obviously already lost a friend that day; he didn't want him to have to lose another if he could help it.

A comfortable silence descended upon the family as they quietly reveled in the joy of being reunited; but they could not help noticing the somberness of they're fuzzy blue elf as the Blackbird speeded toward the mansion they called home.

* * *

**Translations:** _I don't know German, I've only started learning Japanese, and my French is really rusty so please excuse any mistakes in syntax or meaning. _

_Notre petite_ — Our little

_Tout l'endroit_ — The whole place

_Dans un arbre_ — In a tree

_Es tut ich Leid, Kleine Blume_ — I'm sorry, _Little Flower _(pet name)

_Halt die Fressa._ — Shut your kisser.

_Mon cher_ — My dear

_Hören Sie auf, um zu lachen!_ — Stop laughing!

_Mais . . . vous êtes trop drôle!_ — But . . . you are too funny!

_Vous êtes très cher_. — You are very expensive.

_Sie gefährliche Hexe!_ — You treacherous witch!

_Zut-alors_ — the traditional textbook translation for this idiomatic expression is "Rats!" But I think we can all agree that nobody says that anymore. Today's equivalent would be something more like "Dang it!"

_Verdammt!_ — Dammit!

_Bleiben Sie zurück!_ — Stay back!

_Oi! — _Hey!

_Neesan — _Big sister; as with _niisan_, the term _neesan_ can also act as a suffix , such as _Ana-neesan_

_Onegai_ — Please

_Ana-chan_ — -chan is a suffix used as a term of endearment for girls.

_Okite kudasai!!_ — Please wake up! or Please get up!

_Kommen Sie._ — Come here.

_Liebling_ — term of endearment meaning something along the lines of 'dear one,' or even 'beloved.'

_**A/N:**_ The ratio between the time and effort I put into this chapter and the resulting length is extremely out of proportion. In the first draft of this story, this chapter had given me a lot of trouble as well because I totally _SUCK _at actions scenes. All I hope for is for this tricky chapter to be coherent, and easy to visualize. Which means you should review and let me know! Thanks for reading!!

— _La Loba_


	4. Revelations

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution. I never will. Ever. (WAILS) Anywayz, (lol) I'm not making mulaa offa dis so donna sue me!!

A/N: First of all, I would like to give my sincere apologies to everyone for my awful inconstancies. I also want to thank everyone for continuing to read despite this. I thought I'd try posting the translations differently. Most of them will be at the end of whatever sentence they are needed for. This was done at the suggestion of one of my readers . . . but I can't remember who!! Sorry!! Anywayz . . .

**The Brothers:** The time has come for the full back-story of the brothers Fuhen and Kyoumu. I tried to include it bit by bit in various ways but it simply did not flow. The best thing to do was create a separate chapter as much as I am loathe to do so, because after all this is supposed to be a _Kurt-centric_ fic. And although this chapter has a definite lack of Kurt, it does contain important and relevant information— however irrelevant it may seem to some— that needs to be stated one way or another in order to understand the rest of the story.

_**The Little Matchstick Girl**_ _–by Hans Christian Anderson_: This is positively the most heartbreakingly beautiful of the tales by Anderson. It _really helps_ that you know the story to get some of the symbolism and allusions in the chapter. If you've never read it **the link** **can be found in my profile.** **Please, please,** _**PLEASE READ IT!!! **_It's very short, only four paragraphs!

**Notes on Accents: **_**I've gotten several complaints about this, some nice some not so nice. I decided to demonstrate the accents in this story because I believe that it greatly affects the verisimilitude of these characters. I'm sorry to those who don't like it, but I won't change it. So here is a guide for you readers to Skim or Skip at will:**_

_French_

**1**—Like in the German accent, the constants '_th_' often become a '_**z**_;' but regardless of this similarity words are pronounced differently. For example: 'the' becomes '_**z**_e' for both German and French accents, however it is pronounced '_**zee'**_ in French, and '_**zeh'**_ in German. 'That' becomes '_**z**_at,' but it is said '_**zet'**_ in French, and '_**z**_-_**ah**_-_**t**_' in German.

**2**—The consonant 'H' in French is silent, so it will often be dropped off of words like he, have, him, her, becoming 'e, 'ave, 'im, and 'er.

**3**—On a final note, like many French speakers, Cambrant 'hacks' the letter 'R.' There is absolutely no way to depict that in writing, so your imagination will have to do it for you.

_Japanese_

**1**—The '_L_' does not exist in Japanese, so often times the Japanese pronounce it as an '**R**' when speaking foreign languages.

**2**—The letter '_V_' doesn't exist in Japanese either, so it will always change to a '**B**.' Words like '_very_' then become '_**b**_ery.'

**3**—Common consonants that change letters, or sounds: '_th_' can change to '**s,**' or '**fu**.' The letters _'si'_, often become '**sh**.'

_This is based entirely upon my observations over the past four months, on how my Japanese and French instructors, all of whom vary in fluency, speak English; as well as my limited knowledge of the French and Japanese languages._

_—La Loba_

**WARNING**: This story in general deals with abuse and has some graphic violence. Thus the rating is PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you or you don't like it, then don't read this story. You have been warned.

**Sanctum**

By: _La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 4: _Revelations_

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!!" Rahne was almost panicking as she sped through the mansion as a wolf following her professor's scent. Why did he have to be so far away?

She slipped sideways on the hardwood floors as she took a corner almost too fast, "PROFESSOR McCOY!!!"

She found him in a dark corner of the library, high up near the ceiling browsing through the books on one of the top shelves. He looked down at her alarmed, a thick tome in one hand, the other holding tight to the top of the bookcase, his feet propped against the edge of a shelf below the one he had been browsing. He let go of the bookcase suddenly, plunging several feet, catching himself briefly on a shelf midway down, before dropping to the ground in front of his panting student.

"Rahne! What is it?" he asked concerned, but already anticipating his students answer.

"Kyoumu's in trouble! Please, follow me quick!!" she did a one-eighty and dashed out of the library taking the quickest root to the where the boy lay in need of care.

Two minutes found them rushing into one of the larger rec rooms that littered the mansion. The beast paused for only a moment at the sight before him, before moving quickly to his student's side.

Amara sat crying beside the small boy convulsing on the floor of the room, holding one of the child's tiny hands between hers, pleading with him brokenly through her tears. She looked up as her professor approached, taking in a hitched sigh of relief.

"What happened?" he asked gently, looking gratefully a Rahne when she moved the panicked girl away from the small child.

"I don't know!" Amara choked on a sob, "We were reading to him, and he was sitting in my lap . . . A-and he was fine, but he w-was sleepy . . . Oh god! He only nodded off for a second! I-I should have noticed . . .n-now — it's my f-fault, I . . ."

"Shhh, Amara, calm down. It's not your fault at all," the Beast reassured the young girl as he picked up the small boy, "Now, I'm going to need you two to find Storm and the Professor for me and tell them to come down to the med rooms immediately."

The upset and worried girls nodded and left the room quickly to find the weather witch and their Headmaster, and alert them of the situation.

* * *

_Shinkuu Fuhen hated going to school; he hated his teachers; he hated his classmates; in fact, he decided that since moving back to Japan, he hated everybody. _

_He had been so excited when his mother told him that his stepfather had gotten a great job offer in Tokyo, and that they would be leaving America and moving back to their old hometown. He had been even more excited because he would be starting middle school as soon as they got there; so he'd have a chance to make new friends right away. Since moving to the States, Fuhen had been home-schooled, and hand never really gotten the chance to make many friends; he couldn't wait to start going to a real school!_

_But it had been a little over six months since they got to Tokyo, and school didn't turn out as great as he thought it would. Kids made fun of him, and called a delinquent because he always dyed his hair red, painted his face, and wore color contacts. He realized a little too late, that it would have been better to just accept the image of being a badass. He had tried to prove them wrong, to convince the others that all of it was natural, that he couldn't change it; but no one believed him, and the few he managed to convince only considered him even more freakish, and stopped talking to him. Now, his classmates didn't speak to him unless it was to make fun of him; and his teachers treated him like garbage. _

_He growled angrily and kicked a stray pebble off the sidewalk and into the road. He wasn't supposed to be walking home this early; he was still supposed to be at school. But when the kids in his math class decided it would be fun to start throwing balled-up papers and random school supplies at him during the lecture, the teacher had automatically concluded that it was __**he**__, and not his classmates, being 'disruptive in class;' he was given a detention. When Fuhen spoke up and defended himself, the teacher decided that he was also being 'insubordinate,' and sent him to the principal's office; Fuhen had flipped a bird at the teacher and told him 'to go fuck himself,' walking out of the classroom and leaving the school altogether._

_He couldn't understand it; what had he done wrong? It was so unfair! He could feel his eyes watering and he scrubbed at them furiously, too proud to let his tears fall. Now he had to go home and explain himself to his mother, who would probably be too busy to even notice he got home, much less pay attention to him. His mother didn't care about his problems at school, and his stepfather wouldn't take his word over the teachers'._

_Ever since his little brother was born, Fuhen felt like he'd been pushed to the wayside. He had been born about a month after moving to Japan, just when Fuhen's problems at school started getting heated. But because of his newborn brother, nobody seemed to care; nobody seemed to notice him. He had quickly developed a terrible jealousy towards the child. His mother had always been so loving and caring; now he felt as if he were just a nuisance to her. 'Not now Fuhen,' 'Kaasan's busy Fuhen,' 'Tell me later Fuhen;' and all because of that damned brat. It was so utterly frustrating; yet even as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty._

_Lately . . . Things at the Okkanai-Shinkuu Household had become very strange. His stepfather was always agitated and had taken to drinking. His calm, sweet mother had been turning, slowly but surely, into a nervous wreck over the past few months; and Fuhen knew that there was more to it than just his problems at school. In fact, as usual, everything seemed to center around his little brother. _

_He rounded the corner and could finally see the roof of his house over their tall fence. He paused in front of the gate, heaving a tired sigh before entering, and immediately noticing something odd. Even from outside the house, he could hear that the TV was on full blast; but beyond that, there was the almost drowned out sound of a baby's cries. Fuhen felt a chill travel down his spine._

_He opened his door, poking his head within suspiciously, stepping inside slowly, and cringing a bit at the racket the television was causing. He placed his bag by the door, and slipped off his shoes before heading into the living room, finding it devoid of any spectators that would require the picture box to be so obnoxiously loud. Something clanged in the kitchen, confirming his mother's presence in the home. _

_He looked around the room in search of the remote, scratching the back of his head lightly. He found the contraption lying innocently on the coach, and turned the TV down. A sudden loud clatter in the kitchen startled him and he soon heard a rush of footsteps. His mother came storming into the room and straight up to him, snatching the remote away and raising the volume even louder than before._

"_Don't touch se terebi wisout permission!" She scolded him angrily, returning promptly to the kitchen, leaving her son standing dumbfounded in the middle of the living room._

_This was one of the strange new phenomenons occurring in his home. As soon as he lowered the volume, his brother's loud cries could be heard perfectly; yet instead of his mother noticing, she raised the volume anew and chose to continue on her merry way, ignoring the suffering child completely. This was not an isolated incident; with everyday that went by, he had been noticing that his supposedly cherished baby brother was ignored, and left unattended for longer and longer periods of time. It confounded Fuhen to no end; and with each incident, he found his jealousy slowly developing into pity and something deeper he couldn't identify._

_Fuhen headed up the stairs, with the intention of going straight to his room; but to do so, he had to pass by the baby's room first. He almost got by it without stopping, but those forlorn cries were too hard to ignore. Before he knew what he was doing, he had entered the room that belong to his little brother, Kyoumu; and almost immediately regretted it. The blinds and curtains were shut, making the room dark as night; most likely, it had been done in the hopes of putting the child to sleep, but it had either not worked or had simply not been undone from the previous night. He flipped on the light and approached the crib._

_Baby Kyoumu was practically blue in the face from crying; and the sight pulled harshly at Fuhen's heart strings. He had been jealous, sure— but he had never really wished serious harm to the child; and now as he took in the smell of dirty diaper, the gurgle of that little stomach, and the tiny nose running all over that cherubic face, he felt ashamed to have ever thought badly of the innocent baby boy. _

_Fuhen stood staring in shock for a few minutes, his brain trying to cope with the sudden epiphany that his younger brother was being purposely neglected. He snapped out of it when the baby started coughing, dashing to the crib side and picking him up into his arms. He grimaced as he felt the diaper sag off the baby's body, heavy, warm, smelly, and obviously the same one that had been placed on the child at bedtime the night before._

_He took the baby over to the changing table, and couldn't help groaning in disgust when he opened his brother diaper. The little child's lower body was completely smeared in his own wastes; it was disgusting to say the least. He stood there, covering his nose from the smell; he'd never changed a diaper before, and wasn't really sure how to go about doing so. He decided first and foremost to clean his brother up before trying to figure out how to place a new diaper on him. _

_Half a box of diaper wipes later, the baby was still crying, his little bum, although clean, sporting a very obvious rash. Fuhen looked around the changing table, remembering from some baby commercial, that he would have to put some sort of cream on the thing before putting on a new diaper. Finding a similar looking product in one of the drawers, he spread some liberally over the rash, noticing with some satisfaction that his brother's crying seemed to lower a fraction in intensity. _

_He then tackled replacing the diaper, managing to secure one clumsily after a few minutes, feeling succinctly proud of himself; but the baby was still crying, even if to a lesser degree than earlier. Fuhen left his brother on the table, and searched the crib for a few moments before he returned with the a pacifier, placing it in his brother's mouth. The child quieted immediately, sucking forcefully on the rubber in his mouth. But as the baby quickly discovered that the pacifier wasn't going to provide any nutrients, he quickly let go of it and began screaming anew._

"_Kuso!" Fuhen whined at his brother in frustration, "Ima doushita?" _(Damn! Now what's wrong?)

_Incapable of answering in any other way, the child continued to cry when his little stomach emitted a small gurgle. Fuhen blinked, remembering that the child had probably not eaten since the night before. Sighing, he picked up his baby brother carefully, and walked downstairs into the kitchen where he could get the child some food. _

"_Kaasan, Kyoumu no miruku ga doko desu ka?" he asked calmly, after walking into the kitchen with his crying brother. _(Mom, where is Kyoumu's milk?)

_His mother turned abruptly, dropping the glass dish she had been washing into the sink with a loud crash of broken glass, starring in shock and horror at the sight of her two sons standing before her in the kitchen. She gave a startled cry and rushed at her older son ripping her baby from his arms and running up the stairs. Fuhen didn't even have time to react._

_Snapping out of it, he turned quickly and followed his mother, reaching the top of the stairs just as she was shutting the door to the baby's room, his brother's cries resounding loudly within the room. Fuhen was nothing short of bewildered, as he approached her._

"_Okaasan! Nani wo shi— " he cut off as his mother suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him roughly. _(Mother! What are you do—)

"_Fuhen! You don't go in sere! You stay away from him! Wakarimasu ka?" _(Do you understand?)

"_O-okaasan . . . " _(M-mother . . .)

"_WAKARIMASU KA?" she shouted at him forcefully with another shake. _

"_H-hai . . ." he stuttered in answer. _(Y-yes . . .)

* * *

Kyoumu continued to seize in the Beast's arms as the large blue-furred man finally arrived at the med rooms and place the child on a bed. Grabbing a small mirror, Hank brushed aside the little boy's blonde bangs and carefully looked into the child's eyes. His normally slitted pupils had dilated so much they were almost circular; confirming that the child was not suffering from any normal type of seizure, but was in fact caught in one of his own terrifying illusions.

The last three weeks for the X-men, had been more trying than the two months of Kurt's absence. They had waited so long to finally have their cheerful elf returned to them, but the elf they received instead was jaded; and the suffering of his former cellmates did little to lighten the mood.

The girl known as Botany had been in a coma since they arrived; her ashen body having regained very little of the vibrant green Kurt had assured was her normal pallor. But at least she had stabilized, and they had every hope that she would eventually make a full recovery.

The young Japanese boy known as Kyoumu, however, had all the residents of the Xavier institute on the edge of paranoia. Most of the students were too scared of the child to be in the same room with him; all thanks to several unfortunate incidents. Logan, Kitty, and Storm, had all suffered the misfortune of having looked into Kyoumu's haunting violet eyes.

Logan had gone so wild that he had to be strapped down to a table for a good six hours, to keep him from hurting himself, or his students. Kitty was inconsolable for days after her experience; wanting to get away from the child's frightful gaze so badly, she took an abrupt vacation home, and had yet to return. Storm's encounter, however, had been the most frightening; she lost complete control of her powers, resulting in Bayville being terrorized by seven tornados in the course of a single night.

To make matters worse, Kyoumu's health declined more and more with each passing day; the seriousness of his affliction having been unknown even to Kurt. The first three days of his stay, the young boy had very adamantly refused to go to sleep, an unhealthy action for any adult, much less a formerly imprisoned and mistreated child. Kurt, at first, had staved them off from coaxing the child to sleep, explaining to them that Kyoumu suffered from terrible nightmares, and that the child often had gone days without sleep when in the laboratory. But Kurt quickly learned that Kyou's behavior was very different without his brother around, or his suppression collar for that matter; making all his previous knowledge about the child's habits and the effects of his power almost useless.

By the second day, Kyoumu was as skittish as a colt, trembling constantly, and only half aware of his surroundings. He had managed to stay awake through the entirety of the third day, only to finally fall pray to exhaustion as the moon rose that night. Only then were the X-men were able to realize the true horror of the young boy's _gift_.

Much like Cyclops, Kyoumu had no conscious control over his power, and was therefore forced to avoid eye contact with any sentient creature lest he trap them in an illusion. His illusions were for the most part, nightmarish; the merest second of eye contact allowing the boy to subconsciously read into a person's mind and see their worst memories, their biggest fears, or their darkest desires. The information therein was used to create a life-like dreamscape in the mind's eye of the victim instantaneously, in which they would be trapped for no longer than one minute. However, that single minute could, in dreamscape, appear to be any length of time desired by the boy; hours, days, even months.

There was however one major difference between the optical abilities of Scott Summers, and the young boy Okkanai Kyoumu; when Scott closed his eyes, his power was safely suppressed and did him no harm. When Kyoumu did the same, however, he would fall prey to his own power. And unlike his fortunate victims, the time he spent confined in his own nightmares had no limit.

As it were, the child could not go to sleep; he could not even blink without seeing some sort of hellish vision. Unfortunately, a human body can only go without sleep for so long, forcing the little boy to fall into a dangerous pattern of complete sleep deprivation for days on end, until his exhausted body finally collapsed into unconsciousness, where instead of gaining the rest he so badly needed, he would slip into a horrific nightmare with no sure end in sight.

Sometimes when the boy finally collapsed, his visions were so horrific that they made him slip into dangerous seizures that would not stop until the child was freed from his self-induced hallucinations. But the visions Kyoumu's eyes provoked took an incredibly strong hold, and were next to impossible to dissipate before they ran their course; and the awful nightmares would never seem to want to let go of the boy once they had hold of him.

The first time Kyou fell prey to his own power, his seizures had been terrifyingly violent; none of the X-men had seen anything like it. He had started hyperventilating, and nothing they did would wake him, or shock him into breathing. His little heart became too overworked and eventually seized with the rest of his convulsing body, and stopped beating. Were it not for the frantic work of the Beast, and Storm, battling to revive his failing body, and the Professor psychically shocking the child's mind free of its too real nightmare, little Kyoumu would have probably died.

The Beast took a calming breathe, and tried to focus on stabilizing the small boy's breathing while waiting for the Professor, and Storm to arrive.

* * *

_The days began to fall into that dreadful pattern of conscious neglect in the Okkanai-Shinkuu home, while Fuhen walked around desperately trying to ignore the heart wrenching cries that echoed daily throughout his house. But by the time dinner rolled around two weeks after the initial realization, he had devised a plan to help his baby brother. _

_The family ate their dinner with the ruckus of the television in the background, the baby's cries no longer audible. As soon as they finished their meal, Fuhen rushed to collect their plates, telling his mother that she looked tired, that she should go to bed, and that he would take care of the dishes. The act earned him a happy smile from his mother, a sight which was becoming rather rare, and a nod of approval from his stepfather, as he walked towards the kitchen with the dirty dishes. _

_Listening carefully from his place at the sink, he heard his parents head up the stairs; the bedroom and bathroom doors opening and shutting a few moments later. Now was his chance!_

_He finished at the sink quickly, and dashed to the cupboard, grabbing what he needed, and climbing the stairs as quietly as he could; praying that he could reach his room before being spotted. Heaving a giant sigh of relief as he closed his bedroom door, Fuhen placed the supplies he had snuck from the kitchen into a large bag hidden in the back of his closet, full of the other baby supplies he had smuggled into his room; now adding to it two empty baby bottles, a container of powdered milk, some measuring cups, a baby spoon, and a few jars of baby food. Exiting the room once more, he walked down the hall to his parents' room, bidding the adults goodnight._

_Fuhen hurriedly padded back to his room and watched the clock impatiently for an hour; after which he hastily checked to make sure the light in his parents' room was out. Seeing that it was, he rushed back to his room, where he clumsily prepared a bottle for his baby brother, and tip toed down the hall to the baby's room. The TV had yet to be shut off; the volume hadn't even been turned down. Even so, there came no noise from the baby's room._

_As soon as Fuhen entered quietly, however, seeing as there was an audience to hear him, little Kyoumu began to wail away; voicing his complaints in the only way he knew. Fuhen almost panicked, hurrying over to the crib side and scooping up the baby, shushing him frantically even though he knew the infant wouldn't understand._

"_Yare, yare, yare . . ." he whispered soothingly, as he placed the bottle in Kyou's mouth; Kyoumu latched on immediately and started sucking hungrily. _(There, there, there . . .)

_With his brother quieted by the bottle, he slipped back down the hall to his room, brother in tow. Once inside, he made sure to lock the door, before settling on his bed with Kyou. The infant downed the entire bottle without letting go once, and began to whimper when it finished. Without thinking, the eleven year old settled Kyou on his futon, and made up another bottle of formula. _

_Kyoumu downed the second bottle in a matter of minutes, choking only once or twice when the flow of the milk came too quickly. He finally let go of the bottle with a loud belch, and it occurred to Fuhen that he'd seen his mother burping the baby after every meal._

_Arranging Kyou on his lap uncomfortably, Fuhen began to pat him gently on the back. Kyoumu burped two or three times, and everything was going fine, when the baby suddenly began spewing his recently ingested milk all over himself, Fuhen, and the futon. Cursing rather loudly in surprise, the redhead held his younger brother away from himself until he stopped spitting up his food. _

_The elder boy eyed the mess in irritation, before turning his brother around to face him, ruby eyes staring into those astonishingly violet ones with a rather disapproving look, but Kyou merely cooed innocently in his hold. Sighing, he got up from the soiled futon, his brother in his arms, and padded quietly across the hall into the bathroom._

_He undressed the baby with some difficulty, never having had to perform such a task. Finally he propped little Kyou against the wall of the small tub, and turned on the water, letting it run until it was warm, before stopping the tub. Leaving the infant sitting against the wall of the tub, he returned to his room to change the sheets. Just as he was stuffing his pillow in the case, he heard a soft splash, followed by a sputtering sound over the running of the water in the bathroom._

_He dropped the pillow and ran across the hall, seeing upon arrival that Kyoumu had slumped down the side of the wall and was now submerged in the water filling the tub. With a frightened cry, he pulled the baby above the water, where he continued to sputter and began to cry. As he calmed Kyoumu once more, Fuhen believed he finally understood what his mother had always meant when she said the words: _My heart almost stopped cold

_Trying to remember all the times he'd watched this on TV, Fuhen did his best to bath his baby brother quietly. Entering the room with his towel wrapped brother, he tsked as he realized that all of the baby's clothes were still in the nursery. He had been so busy trying not to get caught with the food and hygiene supplies, he forgotten about the clothes. Placing Kyou on the futon carefully once more, he rushed back to the baby's room, and grabbed as many tiny garments as he thought he could stuff in the rather crowded bag in his closet; returning to his room as silently as possible, and locking the door for the final time behind him._

_The sight before him made him pause in awed contemplation. Kyoumu looked positively tiny lying on his back on Fuhen's futon, surrounded by the gigantic bedding, swimming in a towel, and cooing gently as he played with his little feet, trying to get one in his mouth. In that moment, Fuhen felt a gentle warmth and heavy weight invade his heart simultaneously, the warmth of love, and the weight of responsibility; a love he should have felt unwaveringly since the moment the child was born, and a weight he would not yet realize the full extent of until years to come._

_Sighing heavily, the redhead boy tackled the task of placing another diaper on his brother, and dressing him for bed. With that accomplished, he risked a glance at the clock. It was already midnight; he should have been in bed hours ago. But as he looked at the softly cooing babe, he saw that Kyoumu showed no signs of weariness. So, he lay down next to his little brother, brushing impossibly blonde hair out of his amethyst eyes, tracing the curve of his cheek, and generally marveling at how tiny a human being could be. He poked at those chubby hands, and one of them latched onto his index finger and wouldn't let go even as Fuhen tried to pull it away._

_Kyou made a odd sound that was probably his idea of a laugh, his strangely slitted eyes crinkling in mirth and his smile almost all gums save for two tiny bottom teeth. Looking into those eyes, Fuhen felt as if the world suddenly disappeared around him, and his mind realized in an instant what his heart already knew was happening; he saw what his darkest dreams taunted him with. And the next thing he knew, the world came back, and he was staring at his brother again, who was completely innocent and unawares of what his Jagan eyes had just revealed to his elder brother. _

_On impulse, his placed a little kiss on the tiny fist curled around his finger; and when Kyoumu smiled and laughed again, Fuhen suddenly remembered and began singing a tune his grandmother used to put him to bed with:_

_Boku dake ni waratte, sono yubi de nee sawatte (Smile only at me and touch me with those fingers)_

_Nozomi bakari ga hateshinaku (This simple desire is everlasting)_

_Yasashiku shitai yo, mou kuyanu you ni (I want things to be simple)_

_Nageki no umi mo koete ikou (Let's finally get across this sea of mournful sorrow)_

_Tatoe kurushii kyou da to shite mo (For instance, even if today is painful)_

_Itsu ka atatakana omoide ni naru (Someday it will become a warm memory)_

_Kokoro goto subete nage daseta nara (If you leave everything up to your heart)_

_Koko ni ikiteru imi ga wakaru yo (I understand the meaning of our living here)_

_Umare ochita yorokobi o shiru (It is to know the joy of having been born)_

_Let's stay together itsumo . . . (Let's stay together always . . .)_

_Kyoumu was asleep by the end of the chorus. Fuhen reached over the baby and turned off the light, lying back down and pulling the covers over them, wrapping an arm protectively around the small body of his baby brother, and going to sleep. _

_But the alarm he set went off almost too soon, and Fuhen had to get up quickly and sneak his brother back into the nursery before his mother woke up. The sun had yet to rise and in the dark, Fuhen sleepily prepared another bottle for Kyoumu. Feeding and changing the cranky infant quickly, he stole off down the hall, placed little Kyou in his crib and put him back to sleep._

* * *

Storm walked briskly down the hall, pushing Xavier's wheelchair in front of her. She tried to keep her mind clear and her emotions in check, as it was supposed to be a warm clear night, and it would be a shame to have it invaded by storm clouds; but the news Rahne had just told her, had deeply upset her.

"Don't worry Ororo, we'll help him. We'll find a way to help him control his power, until he can no longer fall victim to it," the Professor assured her out of the blue.

"Yes, Charles. Thank you," she answered, feeling a little better.

They reached the med rooms and rolled through the sliding doors. Storm let go of the Professor's chair as he approached Beast and the boy where he lay on the bed next to Botany's. Ororo neared the girl, giving her vitals a quick once over. Everything was as it should be, but she couldn't help noticing something strange.

On all the tables and surfaces around the girl's bed, were all sorts of get well bouquets and plants. She had personally taken charge of watering the few potted plants that Botany had received from the other students at the institute, the bouquets however . . .

It had been three weeks since the students collected fresh cut flowers from the green house and made their own bouquets for the newest addition to the X-men family. Yet, all of the flowers, including the short-lived ones were still perfectly healthy. And more bizarre still, as she inspected the vases more closely, she saw that many of them had started sprouting roots and new flower buds.

Ororo looked back at the pale unconscious girl, looking to all the world as if a single touch would cause her to fall into a pile of ashes, before returning her gaze back to the flowers around the infirmary, feeling a small measure of peace in the discovery; finally, something Kurt could be thrilled about. She smiled at the sleeping girl before heading over to the next bed containing the suffering child, but Hank and the Professor seemed to have everything under control.

Hank finished injecting a mild sedative into the small boy in order to calm his agitated heart. The Professor had his hands on either side of Kyoumu's head, probing the child's disturbed mind, trying to pull him out of the nightmare. It was routine by now, and it seemed that the dreamscape Kyou was in was not as hard to intrude upon as usual. It would still take several minutes for Professor X to wade through and piece Kyou's battered psyche back together. Now a morbid curiosity began eating away at Storm, for every time the Professor entered the child's mind, he came back with more and more pieces to the puzzle that was Okkanai Kyoumu.

Storm was startled when Kyoumu wailed loudly, and his body arced suddenly off the bed he lay on. Time almost seemed to freeze as the child lay suspended above the bed for several moments, then suddenly collapsed back onto the sheets sobbing.

The Professor slumped tiredly in his chair and the Beast steadied the man before he could fall out of it. Kyoumu began to vomit as he lay on his back, and Storm quickly rushed over and turned him onto his side before he started choking. The child sobbed between heaves, crying out for his Niisan. She spoke to him in a soft soothing voice trying to calm him, and remind him of where he was.

Every time he would awaken from his nightmares, Kyoumu would forget about everything that had happened in the last few weeks and call for his brother; it broke Ororo's heart to have to break the news to him time and time again. The child finally stopped heaving, and she picked him up in her arms, carefully avoiding eye contact so she could take him to the bathroom and give him a much needed washing.

After his fits Kyou always awoke drenched in sweat, usually vomited and sometimes the poor child even wet himself. He would demand his brother's company for an hour or two, before he could be re-convinced of the awful truth of his situation. When he finally was, he would withdraw into himself, shying away from all but three X-men: Kurt whom he'd known from his imprisonment, Logan whom he bonded to because of his knowledge of his language and culture, and Ororo whom the boy had come to see as the mother he never had . . .

Ororo became agitated just thinking about it, not by the fact that the little boy saw her as a foster mother, but by the fact that his real mother had rejected him; although, with a gift as terrifying as Kyoumu's, it was sadly understandable, though no less tragic.

They had been able to piece together a rough outline of the Kyou's short life through the Professor's psychic delving into the boy's mind whenever he collapsed. It had been a maddeningly boggled place, full of strange memories from such early periods in his life that Kyoumu should not have been able to recall anything of. However, the professor soon discovered, that Kyoumu's strange eyes, were something known in Japan as Jagan: evil eyes.

The forward manifestation that they had taken, was the reading and recreating of fears, memories, and desires in a negative context. However, it seemed as if Kyoumu's Jagan could also stores these, as one would store data files, deep in the recesses of his mind, creating a cornucopia of information on everything from his family history to the inner workings of the laboratory in which he had been trapped in for the last four years of his nine year old life.

In theory, Kyoumu could pass along his vast store of information to others in the same way that he gave others visions. Unfortunately, while in captivity, his power was forced to develop too quickly, causing an uneven and dangerously fast maturation of his Jagan, where the hallucinogenic function now reigned supreme and overactive. The damage was irreversible, unfortunately, but the Professor was confident that with time, and intensive control training, Kyoumu could at least keep his Jagan from harming himself, even if he would be forced to avoid direct eye contact with anyone else for the rest of his life.

"Professor?" The Beast in concern, hovering close to the psychic.

"I'm alright. Thank you, Hank," the psychic mutant replied, although a bit wearily, "I'm sure Ororo has everything under control, would you like to accompany me to Cerebro?"

"You discovered something new?" Hank asked in morbid curiosity, unsure whether or not he really wanted anymore insight into the child's past.

"Hmmm," was all the Professor said as he turned and wheeled out of the room, the Beast following beside him.

* * *

_Fuhen was running late. His Junior High School Graduation was only a few weeks away; and today, an assembly had been held, which was mandatory for all graduating students. He had had no choice but to go. An hour an a half later than usual, found the fourteen year old boy rounding the corner of his block, fast approaching his house, when he suddenly froze. _

_Before he even opened the door to the tiny house located in the suburbs just outside of Tokyo, Fuhen knew something was terribly wrong; he could hear the crying from outside the house's gate. He rushed inside, practically hopping out of his shoes, and dumping his coat and school bag haphazardly on the floor._

_He took the stairs two at a time, following the heart wrenching sounds of a baby's cries, echoed by manic cries of frustration, each of which were followed by a muffled thump, coming from the end of the hall, inside the room that belonged to him and his little three-year-old brother._

_Finally pushing open the door, he came upon the horrifying sight of his mother beating his younger brother without mercy or compassion._

"_OKAASAN!! YAMERO!!" he rushed at the woman he called his mother, grabbing both of her hands in his own, stopping them from coming down on his defenseless younger brother yet again. (Mother! Stop!)_

"_Iie!! Fuhen! He needs to rearn!!"_

"_Okaasan! Nani wo hanashimasu ka?!" he pleaded with the older woman, unable to fathom her horrific reasoning whenever it came to his brother, and hugged her close to him, "Onegai, Okaasan, yamero . . ." (Mother! What are you saying?! Please, mother, stop . . . )_

_The woman began to calm herself from her violent fit slowly, hugging back her elder child, looking wide-eyed at the sight of her youngest son lying on the floor, bruised and a bit bloody, wailing at the top of his little lungs. She suddenly jolted and gave a startled sob as if she had been awakened from a nightmare; she shook her head and parted abruptly from the room before Fuhen could protest, leaving her two children alone._

_Fuhen watched his mother leave the room in tears, lost in a sea of confusion; something strange and horrible was going on and it was tearing his little family apart. He took a calming breathe trying to steel himself, before rushing to his brother's aid. The child's screams became even louder when Fuhen first placed his hands on him, thinking they were the wrathful hands of his mother._

"_Shhh, shhh, Kyou . . . yare, yare, yare . . . " Fuhen murmured soothingly as he picked his brother up from the floor and held him gingerly in his arms. (there, there, there . . .)_

_The sound of his voice was instantly recognized, and the baby boy's cries paused momentarily, his startling violet eyes opening wide to confirm the presence of his older brother before he began slurring his older brother's name between sobs._

"_Fuun . . . Niian . . . F-fuun . . . "_

_Fuhen felt his throat constrict at the sound of his baby brother's pained cries, shushing the child, and whispering sweet nothings, he rocked them slowly back and forth, softly singing their lullaby until the sobs of the child in his arms settles into hiccups. Picking up his brother, he walked to the bathroom where he would find the first aid kit._

_His brother's whines went ignored as he cleaned up the beaten child as best he could. The pains of every bruise, scrape, and cut dulling slowly at the elder brother's gentle touch. Fuhen had discovered some time ago, that he and Kyoumu were different. And he harbored a continually growing suspicion that this was the cause in the drastic change of their parents' behavior upon Kyoumu's birth. _

_His mother was nothing more than an oversensitive ball of nerves. She jumped at anything, and the merest glance from Kyoumu could set off a violent tantrum, like the one he'd walked in on. His step-father lived in a drunken stupor, shifting through jobs every few months every time he was fired for being drunk on the job. It wouldn't be long until he got fired from his current one, too. And when that happened, he'd want to take out his anger on the one he deemed responsible for his miserable circumstances._

"_Fuhen-niisan!! Itai yo!" Kyoumu whined as the disinfectant his brother spread on four long bloody scratch marks running down the length of Kyou's arm stung the injured flesh. (-niisanbrother; That hurts!)_

"_Hai! Hai! Gomen itoshigo," he replied softly as he lightly wrapped the wound in gauze, placing a kiss on top of the bandages when done, "Ima daijoubu?" (Yea! Yea! Sorry dear/beloved child; You okay now?)_

_Kyoumu sniffled, but nodded his head slowly, scrubbing at his swollen red eyes with a tiny bruised hand, before reaching his arms up towards his brother. Fuhen picked him up in his arms and immediately began making an airplane sound, making his baby brother giggle slightly. _

_The boy then cried out in delighted surprise as his older brother tossed him in the air and caught him again easily. Sitting the little boy on his shoulders, he continued to imitate a plane engine as he zoomed out of the small bathroom and all around the long narrow corridor leading to their bedroom. He circled the futon he had neglected to put away earlier that morning a few times before making the sound of a falling bomb and diving into his bedding, tossing his brother into the air once more. As his back hit the futon, Fuhen caught the squealing child suspending him in the air above his face; and seeing as his little shirt had ridden up in there play, he put his mouth on his exposed stomach and blew mercilessly as Kyoumu erupted into breathless peals of laughter. Fuhen finally laughed and ceased his torture as his arms began to tire, dumping his brother beside him on the soft futon before his arms gave out. _

"_Moichido! Moichido!" Kyoumu cried excitedly, face lit up with a bright smile and he shook his brother's shoulder, begging for another ride. (Again! Again!)_

"_Maa, iieeee . . ." was Fuhen's tired reply, as he threw an arm over his eyes and peeked at his brother's curious violet pools from under his arm. (Ahh, nooooo . . .)_

"_Niisan, doushita? Mou shindoi ka?" he asked, whining slightly, as he tried to move Fuhen's arm and get a better look at his face. (Brother, what's wrong? Are you tired already?)_

"_Hai! Guttariiiii!" he exclaimed suddenly, removing his arm and surprising Kyou as he pulled the blankets over them, "Dakara, ima nemashou ne?" (Yes! Deeead tired! So, let's go to sleep now, ok?)_

"_Eee?! Iie, boku wo nemasen yo!!" Kyoumu instantly rejected the idea of napping as most children his age tended to. (Huh?! No, I won't go to sleep!!)_

"_Nete kudasai," Fuhen commanded gently as he laid Kyou on the futon next to him and pulled the blanket up to his chin. (Please go to sleep.)_

"_Iie!" his brother responded trying to crawl out from under the blankets._

"_Nete yo!" Fuhen commanded him more firmly, pulling the escaping three year old back under the covers, and wrapping an arm around him to keep him in place. Before his brother could protest any further, the redhead teenager began to sing his lullaby, slowly coaxing the little child into dreamland. (I said go to sleep!)_

"_Uwakimono," the tiny blonde mumbled as he tried to fight off the sleepiness, but eventually whispering before he finally gave in, "Oyasumi . . . nasai . . . Niisan . . ." (Cheater; Good . . . night . . . brother . . . )_

"_Oyasuminasai," the ruby-eyed boy answered the already sleeping child with a smile, settling more comfortably into the futon, and moving back enough to stare at his brother a while._

_Although pale, and marred with some fading bruises, the child's face was nothing less than cherubic. As their recent play recurred in Fuhen's head, he couldn't help but smile and tenderly brush the hair out of the little cherub's eyes. It was moments like this that made Fuhen mourn over their broken family. It was moments like these that made him acutely aware of how their family life could be; of how it __**should**__ be. It was moments like this that he cherished above all other things, because they made the rest of his miserable day worth it. It was moments like this that made him think that they would be better off alone._

* * *

An hour later found Kyoumu fresh and clean sitting at the small breakfast nook in the kitchen of the great mansion as Ororo prepared him a bowl of miso soup. It was the dry kind she had found in the international section of the supermarket, quick and easy to prepare. In all of three minutes, she approached the child at the table, who was sitting in a chair stacked with pillows as he was so small for his age, that the nine-year old couldn't eat at their tables without something to prop him up higher. She set the steaming bowl of soup before the weary looking child.

"Arigatou gozaimasu," he responded automatically, but made no move to eat the soup, but rather stared at the tendrils of steam rising from the bowl like a zombie.

Noticing this, Ororo asked him softly, "Is it too hot, little one?"

"H—hai, Ororo-san," he answered hesitantly, following the tall woman's elegant movements as she crossed the kitchen and took something out of the freezer, before opening a draw and grabbing a spoon. Sitting down next to Kyoumu's suddenly nervous form, she dropped a small ice cube into the bowl, and stirred the soup with a spoon until it melted.

"Try it now," she said gently passing the uneasy little blonde the spoon.

Although she did not show it, it greatly saddened and distressed her that Kyoumu would become so fearful of her at times. After they began to discover the bits and pieces of his past, the logic behind the nervous and often paranoid mannerisms of the Japanese child became clear to all the instructors of the Xavier Institute. Kyoumu for his part was having a hard time trusting any of the adults; and as time went by it became apparent that his distrust went a lot farther back then from just his time in the laboratory. The young boy finally took the spoon from her hand, and brought the small bowl of soup closer with his other hand.

"Itadakimasu," he said very quietly, putting his palms together briefly before beginning to eat; desperately trying to ignore the woman watching him quietly and the deep red hue of the liquid in the soup that reminded him too much of one of his most recurrent nightmares.

* * *

_She had decided to feed him today; as such she had entered his room and dragged him out of the closet where he had hidden himself as soon as he heard the door begin sliding open. Although she knew all his hiding places, usually that tactic was enough to satisfy her that she was in charge, and she would leave him alone; but not today._

_She had pulled him roughly down the stairs by a little arm, and yanked him into their small kitchen where they had a western style dining table, and a high chair from when he was still very young. The child was four years old now, and although he was considerably small for his age, he no longer fit properly into the chair; making it a tight uncomfortable fit, that made his legs fall asleep, and his breathing feel short. She often locked and strapped him down in it all day for no apparent reason other than make him miserable._

_Today it seemed, though, that it had more purpose, as he saw her continue to prepare something quickly on the stove. While she was distracted the child tried to discreetly unlock the tray that kept him trapped in the chair and leave the kitchen, but the mechanism would not give, and so he found himself stuck in place at the mercy of his mother until his brother arrived home, which thankfully would only be an hour. _

_He jumped out of his thoughts when his mother dropped a plate of miso soup on the chair tray; if it could even be called miso anymore, as it was so overcooked and piping hot that the broth was still bubbling and boiling. His mother loomed above him, apparently waiting for him to pick up his bowl and start drinking; until her child's hesitation began to annoy her. _

"_Doushita?" she asked dryly. (What's the matter?)_

"_A—ano . . . Kaachan, miso shiru wa t—totemo atsui desu, n—ne?" Kyoumu answered her respectfully with a nervous stammer. (U—um . . . Mommy, the miso soup is aw—awfully hot, is—isn't it?)_

"_Tondemonai! Afta I spent all sis time preparing it for you?" she responded angrily. (What a thing to say!)_

_He whimpered slightly and picked up the lacquer soup bowl with trembling hands, cautiously bringing it to his mouth and trying to take the smallest sip possible, but the liquid was simply too hot. He yelped and put the bowl down quickly, the hot soup sloshing violently around the bowl and spilling onto the highchair's tray._

"_D—demo, Kaachan . . . kore wa—" Kyou replied hesitantly but was cut off by his mother. (B—but, Mommy this . . .)_

"_Tabete yo!" she screamed at him, making the small boy flinch. (Eat it, I say!)_

_She swapped him over the head, and picked up the boiling bowl of soup moving it towards his face. He panicked and reflexively pushed the bowl away causing the woman before him to drop it. It bounced off the highchair with a splash of hot liquid and clattered loudly to the floor. _

"_Baka!" his mother immediately shrieked, "Rook what you did!" (Idiot!)_

_Kyoumu cried out in pain as his mother began beating him heartlessly, as he was unable to dodge or duck many of the blows while stuck in the chair. He begged and cried for her to stop but she wouldn't listen, other than to tell him to shut up. Finally at one point, he lifted his arms to shield his face, and had them yanked away only to come face to face with the woman who had brought him into this world. _

_Dark brown eyes were trapped in the stare of the strange slitted violet orbs of the child in the highchair, and the woman ceased all movements. She stared almost unseeing into those haunting amethyst depths for a full minute, seemingly caught in a daze. _

_Then, she blinked; and blinked again. She let go of Kyoumu and backed away slowly, suddenly slipping on the spilled soup on the floor. She looked down at the deep red liquid lifelessly, at first, before her features began to twist into a mask of utter horror. Suddenly she let loose a terrified scream, echoing cries of denial, and covering her face. The woman staggered around the kitchen unsteadily, pulling roughly at her hair, before she began scratching at her eyes incessantly, screaming in absolute terror, begging for something to 'stop.' _

"_K—kaachan?" was all the shocked little boy was able to utter uncertainly._

_At his inquiry she screeched louder than before, her body shuddering convulsively as she continued to gouge at her eyes to no avail. Sobbing and muttering desperately, she stumbled towards a kitchen drawer and pulled out something the child behind her could not see._

_She braced her hands on the wall next to the open drawer and began to bash her head savagely against it, screaming and sobbing manically. With each thump of her head, the wall began to get bloodier, until she suddenly shifted one of her hands and rammed into the wall with enough force that their was an audible cracking sound. Her movements ceased suddenly, her body slowly going limp, sliding down the length of the wall to the floor, leaving a trail of thick red liquid; the same substance instantly began pooling all around her head as her body lay lifeless on the floor facing the wall. _

_In his highchair Kyoumu could not tear his eyes away from the gruesome scene. Watching as the red pool around his mother gradually grew larger, a stream of the thick fluid running sluggishly across the floor of the small kitchen until it mixed with the thin red broth of the miso soup that had been spilled earlier on the floor in front o him. As he stared at the mixing liquids, eyes impossibly wide, his body began to tremble fiercely._

"_K—kaa . . . c—chan?"_

* * *

"—mu ?"

The small blonde had been staring blindly into his still half full bowl of soup for the last ten minutes.

"Kyoumu?" Ororo called him out of his stupor.

"Hai?" he asked in a daze, not looking away from his bowl.

"Are you done? Would you like something else?" she prodded gently.

"Iie . . . I'm full. Gochisousama," he said quietly, putting his palms together once more.

Storm picked up his bowl, and washed it quickly in the sink, before returning to the child sitting listlessly at the table, and helping him down. Leading him to the mansion's most luxurious den, with a fireplace in full blaze, she showed him a pile of books similar to the ones that were being read to him before he had collapsed and let him choose something.

He selected a book of fairy tales by Han Christian Anderson, and climbed up onto the plush, overstuffed couch next to the weather witch; who picked him up and settled him in her lap, before swaddling him with warm blankets.

The child stared almost unblinkingly at the fire, only half listening to the story of the poor little match girl that the kind woman began reading to him. The blazing fire across from them caught more of his attention than the book, mesmerizing and enchanting him to lose himself in its fiery depths.

* * *

_The sound of the front door creaking open echoed through the small silent house, and the tearful five-year old still trapped in his highchair above the bloodied kitchen floor, perked up immediately._

"_N—niisan?" he asked through hiccups, "Niis—san?"_

_There was no answer, except the sudden shutting of the door, and heavy footsteps approaching the kitchen. _

"_N—niisan! Hayaku!! Kaa—kaachan wa . . . " what he was about to say died in his throat as Kyoumu saw his father stop in the kitchen doorway and stare at the scene from a horror film in their tiny kitchen. (Hurry! Mom—mommy . . .)_

_The man had a five 'o clock shadow, and was generally unkempt; as red in the face and sweaty as he was, Kyoumu could tell his father had been drinking again. But how could he be drinking when he was supposed to be at work? Unless . . . he'd been fired yet again, which would explain why he was home so early; and if he'd been fired again . . . _

_Kyoumu whimpered as he felt his stomach churn. What was happening here? Why had his mother started screaming and hurting herself? Why had she stopped moving? Where was his brother? Why wasn't he here? _

_He was startled from his thoughts as his father gave a loud wail and collapsed near his mother's still body. He screamed her name, but she would not answer, not even when he shook her. He turned her around suddenly, and Kyoumu finally got a look at his mother's face . . . and screeched in horror._

_Her face was white as a sheet, her lips a pale purple, one eye was crusted shut with dried blood from the self inflicted scratches she had made earlier, the other was nothing but an open torn wound, still gushing with the same life giving fluid, where his mother had taken a table knife from the still open kitchen drawer and impaled herself on it in hopes of ending, once and for all, the hellish visions in her head. _

_Kyoumu felt the bile rise in his throat and he couldn't keep from vomiting all over himself in the horrid realization of his mother's death. Perhaps in the back of his mind he had known but had chosen ignorance over the truth of the matter. But now as he coughed violently, as gasped for breath in the too tight highchair, there was no denying that this was really happening. _

_Kyoumu looked up in time to see his father's red face contorted in absolute fury, dark eyes full of hate and murderous intent. He began to sob and frantically tried to unlock the chair so he could at least make a run for it, but the damned thing seemed determined to keep him trapped. _

"_Oni no kodomo! What have you done?!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, spit flying from his enraged lips. (Demon child!)_

_He lunged at the child, grabbing the front of his face with a sweaty palm so as to prevent any eye contact with those demonic orbs; he punched his son dead in the chest with all his might. The little blonde couldn't even cry out in pain as his ribs make a sickening crunch on impact. Ripping the chair's tray off, he roughly pulled the nearly faint little boy out by the collar of his shirt and dragged him up the stairs to the master bedroom. _

_Kyoumu couldn't see anything, he couldn't even breathe. He felt a horrible pressure in his chest, and his bare feet were banging painfully against something solid at regular intervals. He slowly sucked in some air with much difficulty, and was able to clear his vision somewhat to realize that he was being dragged to his parents' room. He lifted his little arms in panic trying to loosen the iron grip that his father had on the front of his shirt to no avail. He then tried to slip out of it, but his father simply grabbed his arm and wrenched it out of its socket, making him cry out loudly. _

_They had reached the threshold of the room and when his father opened the door, Kyoumu heard an echo of it from downstairs. He instantly latched his free hand onto the doorway, refusing to let himself be pulled all the way in; he could hear footsteps downstairs, then a hoarse shout coming from the kitchen. Not caring about the pain, Kyoumu lunged as far out of the room as he could, and shouted his brother's name as loudly as possible between his frightened sobs, before he was wrenched back into the room by his dislocated arm, and the door shut and locked loudly. _

_The minute his house came into view, Fuhen could tell something dreadfully horrible was happening inside. He quickly entered, dropping his things on the floor but not bothering with his shoes. The kitchen doorway was at the end of the small foyer past their living room, and the first thing that caught his eyes was the hated highchair, but what unnerved him was the strange red spill on the floor plainly visible from where he stood._

_He rushed into the kitchen and cried out hoarsely when he saw his dead mother's body lying in the middle of the red spill he now recognized as blood. His world flashed white and he fell to his knees, emptying his stomach, and nearly keeling over onto the gruesome pool of blood. He caught himself at the last second, scurrying backwards across the kitchen threshold and away from the corpse and the dark congealed liquid. _

_Suddenly he heard Kyoumu scream his name from the second floor of the house, and a chill ran through him as he realized his step-father was home as well. Staggering to his feet the teenager stumbled up the stairs and down the hall to his parents' room, but the door was locked. He called to his baby brother and the child cried from within begging for his help. Fuhen pulled and kicked at the heavy wooden doors to no end. A particularly pained cry filtered though the doors and he doubled his efforts, pulling at the sliding door with all his might, praying for it to come free._

_Unbeknownst to him, a glowing white light began to incase his hands in his desperation to get the door open, and as soon he uttered his pray the lock gave way and the door slammed open. His father stood a meter from the threshold with a loaded gun aimed at his brother, and the slamming door scared the man's nervous trigger finger into firing at the defenseless child lying on the floor._

_Before he knew what he was doing, Fuhen had dove over his brother's body, fully expecting to feel the bullet tear his flesh, but instead he heard a strange thump of a bullet ricocheting off of a hard surface. His brother whimpered beneath him, sobbing his name, and then Fuhen looked up. _

_They were surrounded, his brother and he, by a large dome of crystal white light. Through it, he could see his step-father staring at them from the outside in utter shock._

"_Kami-sama . . . you are bos oni!" with that he fired at them again, and as this bullet ricocheted as well, he stepped closer and continued firing non-stop in hopes of penetrating the barrier his stepson had created. (God; demons)_

_The redhead pulled his injured brother close, and huddled over him while the barrage of bullets assaulted the shield surrounding them. He watched over his shoulder warily as the older man stop two feet from the barrier, held the gun an inch from the surface and fired. _

_Fuhen flinched, but the shield did not give. The bullet bounced off to the side, hitting the metal edge of the room's air conditioner, abruptly rebounding off of that and hitting his stepfather square in the temple. The man was dead before he hit the floor, his blood splattering the white shield, and quickly pooling around his head, traveling the short distance to the barrier, and bending around its edge. Fuhen stared in complete shock of the recent turn of events, until Kyoumu peaked outside his protective embrace, seeing a dead body for the second time that day and sobbing in horror. _

"_Mite wo ikemasen yo!" Fuhen scolded him, hiding his face in the crook of his neck to keep him from further witnessing the gruesome scene. (Don't look!)_

_He dearly wished he had someone who could do that for him, but the only person that might have at one time in his life was now . . . He couldn't finish that thought, not if he wanted to keep calm, and get Kyoumu out of there. Taking several deep calming breathes he tried to focus on making the barrier around them disappear. After a few moments it did, and he got up quickly to avoid the flow of blood suddenly rushing toward him from the corpse on the floor. He backed away to the doorframe and stood there, little brother in arms sobbing into his neck, unsure what he was supposed to do. _

_Staring at nothing hard for a long time, Fuhen took a deep breathe and turned to their room. Laying Kyoumu on the disheveled futon, he grabbed a large duffel bag from his closet and began to empty out his drawers, filling it with his and Kyou' s clothes. Running quickly into the bathroom, he returned soon after with his arms full of toiletries and first aid supplies, dumping those is the bag as well. Finally satisfied after throwing in a few pairs of their shoes, Fuhen hauled the bag onto his shoulder, and then picked up his trembling baby brother. _

"_Niisan," the little blonde voiced his worries between sobs, "Doko n—ni ikima—masu ka?" (Where a—are we go—going?) _

"

* * *

Reaching up a pale gaunt hand, he rubbed at one of his itchy red swollen eyes; he had no tears left to soothe the tired burning sensation after all the crying he had done. An abrupt shiver passed through his body as he suddenly felt as cold as the little match girl in the story; he snuggled closer to the white-haired woman because she was warm. But it wasn't like the warmth of his brother, that soothed away his pain, and banished his awful nightmares, and made him feel protected, and loved.

It was something very similar; yet very different that was hard for his groggy mind not to distinguish. It didn't soothe away his pain, but dulled it; it couldn't banish his nightmares, but managed to keep them at bay for a while; he felt protected . . . but not loved. Or did he? He felt some strange and unrecognizable feeling from the woman who often bathed, clothed, fed, and read to him during the nights he could not sleep.

As she pulled the blankets more tightly around him, brought him closer to her by wrapping a long slender arm around the cocoon of blankets, and placed a soft kiss on his still slightly damp hair, before continuing to read in a strong soothing voice, Kyoumu couldn't help but wonder if this is what mothers were supposed to do.

The story book began with was one of his favorites because just like him, the little match girl had a frightening home, and parents she could not go back to. As Storm read about the little match girl seeing beautiful visions in the fire of her matches on a cold winter night, until meeting her beloved grandmother, who finally took her away to rest in peace, Kyoumu allowed himself to fall to the hypnotic power of the fire once again.

* * *

_Fuhen opened the front door, looking back towards their kitchen, he commanded his brother to stay put outside with the bag. Braving the bloodied room, Fuhen looked everywhere but the dead body, grabbing some instant foods, and a few utensils they would be sure to need; he hurried back out the door and gave them to Kyou to put away. Returning to the kitchen once more, Fuhen went to the cabinet below the still open drawer and pulled out several bottles of fine sake, and various hard liquors his stepfather had kept there. Breaking them, and spilling them all over the place, he took out the matches from the open drawer, shuddering as he accidentally eyed his mother's body, and dropped a burning match into a puddle of sake. _

_The liquid lit up almost instantly, spreading quickly all around the room. Fuhen stared for a moment, watching the happy memories he had once shared with his family playing in the light of those fires before being consumed along with everything else in the room. Quickly exiting his now burning home, he was relieved to find that night had fallen, and they would now have the cover of dark to aide in their escape. Pocketing the matches, picked up the heavy bag, and then his little brother, hastening out the gate of his smoldering house and heading towards the river nearest his home as fast as his precious burdens would allow. _

_An hour later, he and Kyoumu sat on a blanket on the cold ground littered with the colorful fallen leaves of autumn, near the riverbank under an overpass. He had been trying to light a fire with trembling hands for the last ten minutes, to no success; and he was running out of matches. He finally growled in frustration, shutting the match box, angry that his hands wouldn't stop trembling, and that there was an insistent lump in the back of his throat, and that his stomach insisted in lurching even though there was nothing left in it. _

_And then he broke down, the events of the horrific events day finally catching up to him and refusing to give him peace. He turned away from Kyoumu, bringing one of his knees towards him and burying his face there, ashamed to show such weakness in front of his little brother, when he needed to be strong for the both of them. But Kyoumu would have none of it. _

_He crawled towards his older brother, calling him softly, "Niisan? Niisan . . . . Fuhen?"_

_His brother finally looked at him when he called him his given name, and for an instant, glowing ruby met slitted amethyst. Kyoumu crawled into Fuhen's lap and wrapped his little arms around his brother's neck, Fuhen held him back tightly calming down slowly as the wind began to blow through the tunnel of the overpass, carrying with it the sound of their grandmother's voice sweetly singing their lullaby. _

_Totemo ureshikatta yo, kimi ga warai kakede ta (I was so happy, you were laughing)_

_Subete o tokasu chou emi de (With a smile that melts away everything)_

_Haru wa mada tookute, tsumetai tsuchi no naka de (Spring is still far away, inside the cold earth)_

_Me fuku toki o matte ta 'n da (Waiting for the time to sprout)_

_Tatoeba kurushii kyou da to shite mo (For instance, even if today is painful)_

_Kinou no kizu o nokoshite ite mo (And yesterday's wounds remain)_

_Shinjitai, kokoro hodo ite yukere to (I want to believe that I can free my heart and go on)_

_Umare kawaru koto wa dekinai yo (I cannot be reborn)_

_Dakedo kawatte wa ikeru kara (But I can change as I go on , so)_

_Let's Stay Together itsumo . . . (Let's stay together always . . .)_

_He reached for the matches once more and with steady hands, lit a fire to keep them warm for the night. Pulling the blanket around them, he settled as comfortably as possible on the hard ground holding his younger brother close. The two boys fell asleep as their grandmother's sweet voice filled the air around them, blanketing them in a warmth much more soothing than that provided by the campfire._

* * *

At the end of the story where the little match girl is found frozen to death in an alley next to a pile of burnt out matches, Kyoumu unexpectedly made a soft inquiry.

"Ororo-san . . . Where is my Niisan?"

Ororo's brow furrowed in worry as she closed the book; Kyoumu hadn't thought to ask about his brother since she had bathed him. If there was one thing she hated about caring for the small child, it was having to break the news of his brother's death constantly. Kyoumu was in such a state of denial that he had selective memory, in which he would literally forgot all about the last night at the laboratory and would insist upon seeing his brother. It was then that the nearest adult had to gently explain reality to him once more. Storm was about to launch into one such gentle explanation when Kyoumu spoke again.

"Is he still on se mountain?" he asked with a yawn, he wanted to sleep so badly, but he couldn't; and no amount of wanting would change that.

Ororo thought about how to answer that, "Yes . . . he is . . . Kyoumu, how much do you remember?"

"Niisan was bery brabe. He sabed us . . ." Kyoumu answered absent mindedly still staring at the fire, "Onry, now he is not here . . . he is sreeping at se mountain."

Ororo smiled to herself, feeling heartened that Kyoumu was finally starting to overcome his denial and accept the truth of his brother's death.

"Would you like me to keep reading, little one?" the weather witch asked as she ruffled his hair affectionately, and reopened the book.

"Hai, onegaishimasu," he replied finally snapping out of his daze and giving her his full attention. (Yes, please.)

Flipping through the colorful image-filled pages, she finally stopped on the next story and began reading; _The Ugly Duckling_.

* * *

_The rain had not ceased to pour for days making the site of the lab ruins a giant slope of ash and mud. Cambrant looked on, disgusted by the filthiness of it all, from her perch high atop one of the roofs of the armored vehicles coppered up to the dig site. A large portal of black and indigo swirling above her head, keep her completely dry despite the almost torrential rain. She sighed melodramatically and got a few dirty looks from some of the men in black uniforms soaking in the rain nearby; and she smirked back at them, quite content to rub their considerable rank difference in their faces._

_Slipping on the rain boots she had taken off when she first hopped onto the vehicle, Cambrant dropped down to the ground and decided it would be fun to ditch the dig, and take a look-see around the place. In the last three weeks, Cambrant had practically mapped the place out of pure boredom. Wandering aimlessly through the junk and debris on the farthest edge of the ruins on the opposite side of where their company had camped, Cambrant went about kicking rocks, chunks of metal, and stomping the occasional thriving vine that had found its way to the surface after tearing up the lab's interior deep within the earth. _

_A strange noise suddenly caught her attention. At first she thought it could be an animal scurrying about, but rejected that idea upon recalling that not a single living thing besides vegetation had come into the ruins' perimeter since the explosion. Her curiosity now piqued, Cambrant weaved through the debris searching for the source of the odd noise. Ducking into a hole between two slabs of metal, Cambrant came upon a sight so unexpected it made her stop dead in her tracks. _

_Filthy, half-starved, scraped, bruised and bloodied, pulling himself up out of the mucky earth he'd been buried in for the last three weeks, was Shinkuu Fuhen in the flesh and blood. Cambrant did not know what to make of it, so she simply stared stone-faced as the young man gasped fresh air into his oxygen-starved lungs for the first time in weeks. Finally managing to climb all the way out of the ditch, which immediately caved in again with a disgusting slurp, he collapsed on the ground tiredly, turning onto his back to facilitate his breathing._

_At this point, the stone-faced Cambrant walked lazily toward the mutant she had left for dead what seemed like ages ago, stopping to loom above him; her portal umbrella protecting his head and shoulders from the rain. The stop of the pounding rain on his face made Fuhen moan and struggle to open his eyes. He stared blearily at the figure above him, unable to make out the features of its face, but knowing who it was by the colors swirling above his head. He tried to speak but only succeeded in coughing violently; his throat was too dry to produce any proper words regardless. _

"_You should 'ave stayed dead, Fuhen," she said in a very serious voice, watching as his brow furrowed, whether in anger or in apprehension she did not care. _

"_You would 'ave been __**better**__ off dead," she continued in a dangerous tone moving around to the side of his head, placing a booted foot on Fuhen's neck and began to put pressure on it until she heard him choking, unable to put a struggle in his weakened state. _

"_RONDELLE!"_

_She jumped, hastily backing away from the Japanese boy, as he gasped loudly for breathe. She turned to see her commander-in-chief looking rather severe, more so than usual. _

"_Ah! Monsieur! Je seulement—" she tried to explain but was cut off. (Ah! Sir! I was only—)_

"_Cut the bullshit, Rondelle," he scolded harshly, "Why must you constantly be a disappointment? Can you not follow a single simple order? Why are you still here? I gave you a mission."_

"_Mais, Papa, je . . . " she realized her mistake too late to fix it, and was not surprised when she was backhanded roughly across the face for her grievous error. _

"_Are you forgetting your training as well, Rondelle?"_

"_Non, monsieur."_

"_Well, one of your assignments apparently did your job for you, but you still have three mutants to recover. And Rondelle, my patience for you is wearing thin. You'd best have some good news for me the next time I see you, understood?"_

"_Oui, monsieur," she answered, staring dully at the muddy earth. _

_He frowned at her coldly, before turning and shouting orders to the agents on the other side of the metal slabs. Instantly, people flooded the small area, rushing towards the injured mutant. He was collared immediately, several medics poking and prodding him to assess the severity of his condition. Finally transferring the semiconscious mutant onto a stretcher, they looked up expectantly at Cambrant. _

_She lifted a hand slowly, creating an indigo spark with her left index finger, then suddenly ripping a large hole in the air. As the medics stepped into the swirling indigo portal, Cambrant's luminous hunter green eyes met Fuhen's betrayed ruby orbs. The French girl remembered that none of her cellmates had known that she was the daughter of the commander-in-chief of the illegal operation that had held most of them captive for years. _

* * *

**Translation Notes: **

Itoshigo— means _dear _or_ beloved child_; it is a pet name used in the similarly to the way we would say: _sweetie_, or _honey_.

Itadakimasu— is a prayer of thanks said before meals

Gochisousama— is a prayer of thanks said after meals

**A/N:** Dun ! Dun! Dun! The plot thickens, eheheheh. Ignore me, I'm a little too happy at having finished this monstrously long chapter. Sorry if the graphicness irked some of you, but I was angry when writing most of the flashbacks, and really, what better way to vent then to gruesomely describe a violent scene? . . . Don't answer that!! Anywayz, yes! Did anybody notice something different about the Jagan? And, do we all know who the _ugly duckling_ is? Eheheheh . . . PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!! For a lazy writer like me, it's really encouraging. The reason, actually, that I returned to this story was because I got several reviews in the past few days. Well, thanks soooo much for reading!!


	5. Awakenings

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution. I never will. Ever. (WAILS) Anywayz, (lol) I'm not making mulaa offa dis so donna sue me!!

A/N: Okay, so I'm slowly getting better with updates. It's only been a little bit over a month since the last chapter. YAY! I'm improving!! (Cheers) Well, actually one of the reasons I take so long to update is because my beta is unfaithful (Yea, you are, shut up!!!); but also because I'm a dork who researches almost every little detail she writes about. I can't help it! Sue me! . . . Soooo, we are back to Kurt in this chapter. Please don't be mad at me for the OOC Shadowcat, I needed an antagonist among the X-men and Kitty raised her hand. Plus, she won't be like this the whole story; so please stick with it!

**Kurt's ****Religion:** This is never really addressed in the X-Evo series, but it is such an important part of his character in every other manifestation of Kurt in the Marvel universes, that I simply must bring it into play. It's one of the reason's that I love him so dearly. Kurt is Roman Catholic, for those who may not know, and he will be depicted as such in this fic. I am not going to make him priestly or preachy, or foist RC beliefs on my readers, but I believe it to be so important to show that Kurt has faith, even after all the horrible things that have happened. By the way, Botany/Anastasia is also Roman Catholic.

_—La Loba_

**WARNING**: This story in general deals with abuse and has some graphic violence. Thus the rating PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you, or you don't like it, then don't read this story. You have been warned.

* * *

**Sanctum**

By: _La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 5: _Awakenings_

"Kurt?" the door creaked long and loudly as Kitty opened it slowly, stepping into her teammate's dark and eerily quiet room, "I'm like, coming in, okay?"

She closed the creaky door softly behind her, peering around the dark room for a trace of the boy who became nearly invisible in the shadows. A faint rustle drew her attention, and she turned to see the curtains of the doorway leading to the balcony waving slightly, but there had been no breeze. She looked closely at the corner of the ceiling steeped in shadows to the left of the balcony doorway, and saw something long and slender curl and disappear into the shadows.

"Kurt . . . " she started, but didn't really know how to continue.

There was no answer from the shadows.

"Like, you weren't at dinner. . ." she tried again, trying not to sound like a mother hen, "You feeling okay?"

Not a peep from the shadows; Kitty couldn't even be sure if he was still there, as Kurt had the ability to move so silently, that she could very likely be talking to the dark wall.

"C'mon, Kurt" she continued, letting a bit of exasperation penetrate her voice, "I came all the way up here, because I was like worried about you. Could you quit hiding from me?"

Finally she heard him move, and a moment later the furry teenager had landed crouched on the floor, but instead of approaching her, he sat down against the wall without meeting her worried baby blue eyes. Undeterred by her friend's unusually cold reception, Kitty approached him and sat beside him. He shifted into a more guarded position almost immediately, hunching lower to the carpeted floor, crossing his arms over his chest, bringing his knees up close to his chin, ducking his head so his face would be hidden from her by his long indigo hair. Kitty sighed and positioned herself more comfortably next to him, to show Kurt she was as intent on staying as he was on getting rid of her.

This strange new Kurt was very much annoying; more annoying than the boisterous and often immature Kurt that had become a part of the institute family. This was a different boy sitting next to her; one that was clearly jaded and trying to lock himself away from the rest of the world. But the X-men rarely gave up so easily, as every time he tried to retreat into himself, one of them was always appeared to try and drag him out again.

Sighing again, Kitty tried to initiate a conversation once more, "Like, you know . . . This is a pretty sucky welcome after being away for like ever."

Silence was her answer, but Kitty noted that the furry boy's spaded tail twitched guiltily.

"I was like really looking forward to having dinner with everyone again. After getting used to all the commotion here, supper at home was like so boring, you know?" Kitty continued, watching as Kurt's tail began to sway intermittently like a cat's.

Kurt was facing the away from her, and he again offered no response.

"Well, since you like weren't there to greet me, I thought I'd come greet you . . . " Kitty trailed off, waiting for the boy beside her to respond in some way, but he remained silent.

"Kurt would you like at least look at me?" she asked a little irritated.

Kurt's only response was to loop his arms around his legs, and lean his forehead on his knees, his face still hidden by his hair. He looked so vulnerable to Kitty in that moment that she couldn't help but reach out and place a placating hand on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Kurt rasped in a voice that clearly came from a painfully sore throat.

She stared in shock for a moment before standing abruptly, and heading out of the room as tears pricked her eyes. She opened the door and in her rush to get out, she bumped into the small figure, carrying a tray, that had been about to enter. The collision sent both people and the fragile china clattering to ground unceremoniously.

"Like, ow!! Watch where your—" Kitty cut off as she looked up and saw the reason she had had to take an unexpected vacation home for weeks, lying on the floor before her.

"Itaaaaii . . . " the young boy mumbled, before looking up carefully through his bangs at the startled girl, "Eee—! O-oneesan!" (Oooow . . . M-miss!)

Kitty screamed; quickly backing away from the young child, her body shaking unconsciously. This boy had put her through the worst torment imaginable, all in the span of a single minute; her ever present fear of losing control of her phasing abilities used to construe a vision of horror unmatched by even her worst nightmares multiplied tenfold.

"Like what are you doing here? Get away from me!" she screamed, letting her fear rule over her mouth.

"C-chotto matte o-onegaishimasu, oneesan! Eeto . . . prease, wait . . . ocha wa. . ." Kyoumu often found his English failing him when he needed it most; he tried to think of the words he needed as he reached towards the cup of piping hot tea Kitty had yet to notice spilled all over her shirt. (W-wait a moment p-please, miss! Umm . . . the tea . . .)

Her frightened eyes followed his hand instinctively as it traveled toward her, finally noticing the tea cup. She suddenly felt the heat of the burning spilled liquid seeping through her shirt, and cried out in surprise again, removing the cup herself, before returning her frantic gaze back to the child.

"Daijoubu d-desu ka? Doozo o-onegaishimasu," he stammered as he approached her with small a towel. (A-are you alright? P-please, let me.)

"Like, I said stay away you little monster!" she screamed again and smacked his little hands away, unconsciously raising the tea cup to throw it at him. The child saw the cup coming down at cried out in fear, his body cringing as he braced himself for the blow.

"Keety, vas are you doing!?" Kurt's voice sounded horribly gruff even to himself.

Kurt grabbed Kitty's hand before it struck, but her fingers let go of the cup regardless, and it smashed to pieces, shards bouncing off the hardwood floor of the threshold in all directions; a small sliver embedding itself in the little blonde's hand. Kyoumu quickly crawled back further into the hallway, away from the upset girl and the scattered glass. His hand pained him and he looked down to see blood slowly dripping from it, as the two older mutants argued.

Kitty stared at him in shock for a moment, surprised by the horrible rasp of the furry teenager's voice before responding heatedly, "What do you mean? Like why is he here? So, is like his company better than ours now?"

"Keety, stop it," Kurt warned her, and with his voice so hoarse, it sounded almost like a warning growl.

He suddenly heard the child in the hall crying and turned to see him cradling a bleeding hand. He left the girl's side and rushed over to try and calm his smaller companion and examine his wound.

"Oh, so that's like it then," Kitty huffed angrily, getting up and stepping over the broken glass into the hall.

"Keety, look vas you've done!" Kurt rasped, incredulous at the girl's actions.

"So! Like it doesn't even compare to what he did to me! And why are you like taking his side?!" Kitty knew her reasoning was skewed, by she didn't care, "It's because of him that you like don't talk to anyone anymore. It's because of him that we have to walk around in our own home like all paranoid. Why is he still here? He's dangerous! He's like hurt almost everyone!"

"Keety! Stop exaggerating!"

"No! It's true! Don't you remember what happened to Storm! People all over Bayville got hurt! Someone could have _died_ that night. And you! Like you _should_ cry, you little twerp, because it's all _your_ fault!" she shouted pointing accusingly at the sobbing child.

"Zat is enough, Katherine!" Kurt shouted suddenly, a bit of fire spouting from his mouth, his gravelly voice frighteningly close to a growl, tendrils of smoke curling slowly around him as his yellow eyes glared fiercely at the brown haired girl.

The use of her full name was enough to shock Kitty into a momentary silence, watching warily as the little boy stepped out of Kurt's protective embrace, dropping to his knees and bowing low to the ground in front of her, his forehead almost touching the floor.

"G-gomen nasai, gomen n-nasai, o-oneg-gaishimasu g-gomen n-na. . ." was all he could manage to choke out through his sobs, his utterly humbling position enough to clearly convey his message to the girl, even if she could not understand his words.

"If you think a silly little bow will like make up for what you've done, your dead wrong!" she couldn't help but shout as she overcame the shock of Kurt's earlier reprimand. She turned abruptly, running down the hall and around the corner to her own room, not wanting to see the anger she knew would be broiling in Kurt's golden eyes.

As soon as she left, however, Kurt felt the awful tickling that he'd been suppressing with all his might since the girl had walked into his room crawl up the back of his throat. He quickly picked up the child, gently pushing him the rest of the way into his room, and had barely shut the door behind him before allowing his body to be taken over by a horrendous coughing fit that left him shaking, with smoke billowing from his mouth as he took slow deep breathes of fresh air into his burning lungs.

"Kurt-san!" Kyoumu cried through his tears, frightened by the severity of Kurt's ailment.

Kurt placed a reassuring hand on top of the boy's fine honey blonde head, unable to speak without bringing about another coughing fit. He didn't want anyone more than was absolutely necessary to know exactly how much trouble he was having adapting to his new mutation. The Professor and Beast were already working with him frantically to try and find a way to shut down, if only temporarily, the furnace that was slowly broiling him inside out.

While in the lab, the suppression collar had kept his new power from harming him in between the training sessions he received to gain control over this new ability. His collar was never removed due to his teleportation abilities; however its settings were manipulated in order to allow him to learn how to use his pyrokinetics. Unfortunately, it had been almost two months now since his collar had been torn apart on that fateful day; and he was beginning to think it might have been a blessing, for himself as well as Kyoumu.

During his time at the facility, Kurt and the young Japanese boy had both been protected by the control devices from the harmful side effects of their respective powers. Kyoumu's dangerous overdeveloped ability was as tightly suppressed as possible in order to keep him from severely hurting the staff that worked the facility, as well as bestowing him with a tentative safety guard against falling prey to his own power. Kurt's new underdeveloped power was kept tightly bottled in order to reduce the risk of his new internal furnace roasting him alive; and of course as he and Cambrant were spatial manipulators, theirs collars also denied them their teleporting and portal making abilities, lest they attempt an escape.

The only two that had not been forced to wear collars were Neutral and Botany. The two mutants possessed strange abilities that made the devices nearly useless on them. Neutral's namesake ability was truly diverse and nearly endless in its uses, as he could easily deactivate, whether temporarily or permanently, any type of mechanism, making a suppression collar futile; he was only forced to wear it at times for show, to give the guards a false sense of security. As for Botany, the girl had very little conscious control of her elemental abilities; for the most part plant-life simply thrived wherever she dwelled. Even though surrounded completely by metal holding cells, small plants still sought to find the girl through the tiniest of cracks between the metallic plates. Placing a collar on the girl would have had little effect as it would have become entangled, overgrown, and eventually broken apart by vegetation as had happened to their collars the day of their escape, merely at a much slower pace.

Kurt hunched in on himself as another coughing fit seized his suffering body. When it finally ceased, he dragged himself to his feet, staggering to his bed and allowing himself to fall haplessly onto it. Curling into a fetal position, and reveling in the smell of the fabric softener that was still clinging to the recently washed comforter, he felt the Japanese boy soothingly petting the soft fur of his arm as he often had when they were imprisoned. Since returning from his vacation in hell, he had truly learned to appreciate such small pleasures, especially if they helped distract him from the pain racking his body if only a little. He felt so exhausted, but the pain had become so strong lately that he could not sleep well at night. He was beginning to understand how Kyoumu must feel everyday.

"A-ano, Kurt-san?" Kyoumu's tired stammering voice cut through the silence of his room.

"Ja, liebling," he rasped quietly, his voice rough and sore due to his internal injuries. He watched the young boy standing at the edge of his bed, wringing visibly shaking hands in a nervous fashion, staring at his feet as he spoke.

Kurt suddenly remembered the boy had been hurt as he saw the drying blood on one hand. He sat up slowly, groaning a bit at the pain that racked his chest with the movement. Opening his bedside table drawer, he pulled out some Neosporin and a large bandaid. He gently took hold of the child's shaking hand, and pulled out the sliver of glass, depositing it on his bedside table, before spreading some ointment on the cut and bandaging it.

"Gomen n-nasai. I-I was b-bringing y-you some ocha f-for your throat," Kyoumu murmured, his body twitching in unison with every stutter of his words.

Kurt smiled reassuringly at the little blond, "Zat vas a good idea, liebling. Why don't ve get some more?"

Gathering the little boy in his arms, Kurt bamfed out of his room, and reappeared in the kitchen on the first level of the mansion. Sure enough, the teakettle was still on the stove. Kurt took two cups out of the cupboard, waving one in question at the child behind him, who had climbed up onto his usual pillowed chair at the breakfast nook. When the boy nodded with a soft 'hai,' Kurt served them both some soothing honey lemon tea. They sat quietly waiting for it to cool, the silence between them occasionally interrupted by Kyoumu's sniffles.

Sifting through the various condiments on the small spinner at the center of the table, Kurt grabbed the little honey bear, uncapping it and pouring copious amounts of the thick sweet substance into his cup.

"K-kore wa k-kadai, n-ne?" Kyou stuttered quietly as he watched the older boy drown his tea in honey, his hands nervously twitching around his own cup. (That's too much, isn't it?)

Kurt shrugged, mixing the thick liquid into his tea with a spoon. Normally, whenever the two were together, the teenager would engage Kyou with one of his stories from his days at the circus in Germany. But they both knew that he could not speak so freely anymore, lest he wreak further damage to his throat. But misery loves company, and as it was, each other's silent company was comfort enough for the both of them.

Taking a slow deep breathe, Kurt watched the smoke curl around him as he released it just as slowly, mind turning to the small boy sitting beside him, sipping carefully at the teacup he held with shaking hands. He listened to the blond child as he began to sniffle more frequently and occasionally whine to himself. Seeking to drown his mostly silent tears in the tea, but unable to find any relief from his discomfort, pain, and exhaustion; something that Kurt could very much relate to. In moments like these, he couldn't help but think that the small child might have been better off perishing alongside his brother. Such thoughts almost immediately made him feel guilty, but when he considered the misery in which Kyoumu was living his days at the mansion, Kurt couldn't help thinking in such a manner.

When it came to Kyoumu, it seemed there was just no way to win against the self-destructive nature of his powers. The child could not go to sleep, but neither could he stay awake endlessly; at least not without some type of assistance. After seriously weighing the pros and cons, the Beast finally decided to place the boy on a caffeine regimen to keep him awake, and out of the clutches of his power. However, it was only to be a temporary solution while they looked for a way to help Kyoumu control his power.

Unfortunately, the child's power had been meddled with so badly, that as with Kurt, it was virtually impossible to undue the damage dealt. Their training sessions with the child were not making any of the progress they had hoped for. And the child had an amazing tolerance rate to the caffeine in his system, needing his dosage raised much more quickly than the Beast had anticipated; as if the boy had been exposed to a caffeine regimen before. To make matters worse, the child's body had began to show the signs of caffeine intoxication just a week earlier. Hank had immediately stopped administering the medication, only to have Kyou fall prey to severe withdrawal symptoms.

As it was, Kyoumu was a jittery mess. He had not slept for nearly four weeks, thanks to the caffeine, and although this kept him safe from his nightmares, it made him no less miserable, as he had no way to relieve the exhaustion that racked his small body. The students mostly kept away from him, not only for fear of his lethal eyes, but because the child for the past few weeks had become utterly inconsolable. The slightest and most unexpected things would make him launch into a tirade of endless sobs. He was simply exhausted beyond all reasonable measures, and could not rest to rejuvenate his tired body; and the students who use to try to cheer him up and entertain him in their free hours could no longer handle the boy's precarious moods. Kurt and the instructors were the people with whom Kyoumu spent all day and night with in turns.

Almost as if guessing his thoughts, Kyoumu's quiet tears eventually turned to sobs, and the tiny boy was soon choking on the tea. Kurt rasped in surprise, his parched aching throat a bit more soothed by the warm honey tea, as he quickly patted the child on the back, and took away the cup he was still stubbornly trying to drink from. Kyou allowed Kurt to shift him into his lap, but made no effort to help him, his body limp as a boned fish much like that night of their escape long ago. He simply sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, unmoved by Kurt's efforts to comfort him, until he began to choke on the bile rising in his throat.

Kurt felt the small boy tense in his arms, and barely turned him on time to vomit his recently ingested tea onto the tiled kitchen floor. He rubbed his back soothingly, trying to calm the upset child. Talking to him in a pained rasp, he tried to convince him to ignore and forget everything Kitty had said in anger upstairs not too long ago; he tried to convince him that he was not to blame for anything; he tried to convince him that his brother could not come to him any time soon; but mostly he tried to convince himself that he did not feel as tired of living as the small boy whom he was comforting did.

A surprised cry from the kitchen doorway snapped Kurt out of his miserable thoughts, and he looked up to see Ororo rush towards them, Logan at her heels. She took a pale from the corner beside the entrance under the child's mouth as she ran a calming hand through his hair, but by that point he was mostly dry heaving. Logan grabbed the role of paper towels off the counter and piled several of them over the mostly liquid puddle on the floor, letting them soak up as a much of the mess as possible, before pouring some water on the floor and mopping up the rest.

Taking the still sobbing child from the weary teenager, Ororo snatched another paper towel and headed to the sink. Wetting it, she wiped Kyou's face and mouth, before gently settling his head on her shoulder and simply rocking him as his tears continued to fall. Kurt watched the weather witch numbly, as she whispered sweet nothings into Kyoumu's honey blonde hair in a way that reminded him very much of how his own mother used to comfort him.

"What happened, elf?" Logan asked gruffly, now finished cleaning up the mess.

"Err . . .I don't know ve vere just drinking some tea, but . . ." Kurt trailed off, unsure of whether or not he wanted to tell the instructors about Kitty's harsh words just yet, if at all.

Logan sighed deeply, "Elf, the tea was caffeinated."

Kurt blinked in realization of his simple yet egregious error; while on such a strict regimen, any additional caffeine would tip the little blond over the edge. Kurt berated himself silently for forgetting something so important.

"Ack, es tut ich leid, Herr Logan. I don't know vas I vas thinking."

"Eh, don't worry about it too much. Just pay more attention next time," Logan scolded him rather mildly.

Where normally an extra training session would have been assigned as punishment, Logan was letting him slide; it was the man's way of showing Kurt compassion. The furry teen suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there, and gave the adults a hurried mumbled excuse, exiting the kitchen in a cloud of sulfur and brimstone before either could protest.

* * *

"What do _you_ want?" the olive skinned redhead asked tiredly, an edge of anger in his voice. 

"Weeeeell," the pale raven haired girl replied in an annoying sing-song, "I was zinking to myself, zat we could make some sort of deal."

He snorted derisively from where he sat on the floor, arms crossed defensively in front of him.

"Do not give _moi_ zat attitude!"

"_Urusai_! Why don't you go torment some other poor soul!" (Shut up!)

"_Becaaaaause_, zey are not as _fun_ to torment as _you_!" she giggled.

He clicked his tongue in exasperation and turned away from her to glare at metal wall beside him. He was in a cell similar to the one he had dwelled in before; the major difference being that this cell was made of three solid walls, with a fourth side consisting of metal bars. Cambrant stood in front of said bars, twirling a ring of indigo around a long slim finger nonchalantly.

"You do not 'ave much of a choice, you know," she said becoming serious all of a sudden, "I know where your precious baby brother is."

"Then what is stopping you from running your mouth off to that commander of yours?" he asked contemptuously.

Cambrant frowned and huffed in annoyance, "Well, if you don't want to keep 'im from getting captured again, zen zat is fine by me."

She turned and started heading out of the cell block.

"Nani?! Chotto matte!" he cried out in surprise. (What?! Wait a minute!)

"Oui, oui?" she asked in an impatient tone. (_Yes_?)

"What exactly are you playing at? Why are you doing this?" Fuhen suddenly asked, not willing to trust the young women before him.

"_Zat_ is something you need not know. But if you come with me now, I can promise you zat your brother will never be captured by ze organization again," she replied calmly for once.

Fuhen looked hard into her deep hunter green eyes, glowing slightly in the dim light of the cell block. He stood and walked toward the cell bars stopping before the French mutant.

"What must I do?"

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. 

A small sigh sounded in the infirmary coming from the lone bedridden figure in the large open room. The once dull ashy tones of said figure having morphed over the course of two comatose months into a variety of vibrant green hues; her hair had quite literally sprung roots as vines had begun to grow in the beautiful spring bud colored waves. She looked like Mother Nature Incarnate.

A tiny butterfly flitted across the airy room, almost crossing paths with a small group of bees. The insects buzzed and flitted busily about the many bouquets and some potted flowers that the X-men had brought for the girl upon her arrival to the institute's infirmary. Oddly enough, all the fresh cut bouquets had managed to survive despite the passing of several months, without a hint of withering; some had even sprung roots! The potted plants on the other hand were more troublesome, some had grown so much that they had had to be replanted into larger pots. The Institute's instructors more than suspected this had to do with the nature of the girl's abilities.

Anastasia De Latierra had arrived at the institute about two months ago, her critical condition evident in the ashy tones of her hair and body. The good Dr. Hank McCoy had feared losing the child to the severe injuries she had suffered. Fortunately, several broken bones, sprained and dislocated joints, gashes, burns, and a fair amount of stitches later, the battered girl seemed to be stabilizing, only to land in a coma.

Not a day went by that the comatose girl was not visited by Kurt or Kyoumu. The first week, in fact, the two had spent their nights at her bedside in hopes that she would awaken; but she never did. It had taken much coaxing on the Professor's part to get the boys to lead a somewhat more normal daily schedule, in which they could include frequent visiting hours without spending their lives in the infirmary. They were determined to be the first people she saw when she opened her eyes.

The petite butterfly took flight once more, fluttering about the room until it found a perch in the girl's hair. Another soft exhale escaped the small frame. She turned head slightly, disturbing the small creature so that it hovered over her face until her movements ceased; landing softly once more to tickle her cheek. A loud bamf suddenly disturbed the peaceful silence of the room, startling the little butterfly away from the small girl all together.

Kurt stepped out of the dissipating smoke towards the bed that held the sleeping mutant, pulling a nearby chair closer to the bedside before settling into it. He brought his animalistic feet up, long toes gripping the edge of the chair, as he crouched in seat, his chin just above his knees. Finally settled comfortably, he reached for the green hand closest to him, so much smaller than his own long, slender and furry one.

"Hallo kleine Blume. How are you today?" he asked the sleeping girl quietly in his raspy voice, not certain when he had taken to calling her _'little flower.'_

He stroked his large furry thumb across the top of her pastel green hand, simply studying her for a minute; wondering at how much more vibrant and healthy the young girl looked. If only she would wake up from her long slumber.

Kurt sighed. He usually spoke to her when he visited; about anything and everything. He would tell her about his day, he would tell her how Kyoumu was fairing, he would tell her about the other X-men, and he would tell her how he missed her quiet shy presence. Sometimes he would tell her how awful and tired he was feeling about the endless burning his chest. How hard it was getting to talk, and how difficult it was becoming to hide his pain behind his smile; how sometimes it hurt to just breathe. He would only tell her these things; he didn't want anyone else to know.

The X-men had become his extended family, and he had given them the worst fright of their lives when he'd been captured all those months ago. Now the Professor was funding all his medical care, as well as that of two more orphan mutants with no where else to go. He was also taking a great deal of time out of his busy schedule to try to tame both his and Kyou's wild abilities, with little success. The other instructors had been forced to focus more on to him, and their two new charges, than they had ever had to on the rest of the students combined. Ororo especially found more and more of her day occupied with keeping the miserable little boy as comfortable as was possible. Hank was often running one test or another on Kurt or Kyou trying to help them with their powers, and as well as tending to the comatose girl.

Logan had ended up with the task of keeping the other students in line most of the time, much to either party's dismay. Logan was not known for his patience, neither was he the most knowledgeable on dealing with teenagers. It didn't help that Logan's solution to almost every problem gravitated towards a long session in the danger room.

Because of his internal furnace, Kurt was no longer allowed to partake in these sessions; however he would sometimes go and watch his teammates' battles in the automated room. But two weeks ago, he heard the one of the new recruits grumbling sourly about how it was Kurt's fault they were stuck under Wolverine's crazy tutelage; he stopped going to any of the training sessions after that.

He often heard the other students gossip and complain about the new arrivals as well over the course of the past two months. They were terrified of Kyoumu, they paid no mind to the unconscious girl in the infirmary, and they lived tip-toeing around Kurt; some treating him like he could break at any moment, others going on like nothing had ever happened. He knew they meant well, but he wasn't sure which was worse. And when he heard them talk like that about his former cellmates, he couldn't help but wonder if they spoke about him like that when his back was turned too.

Late at night, when the most of the mansion's residents were asleep, he would port down to the infirmary and spill all of his worries to the unconscious girl. It was his outlet, and it was comforting. She was a good listener, although she sucked at giving advice; and neither was because she was unconscious.

During his time in the lab, Kurt had developed a strong bond with the green girl. His first week there had been a torturous series of gruesome experiments that had eventually resulted in his now fiery breath. However, the mutation was incomplete, and use of his new ability literally burned him up alive. But that wasn't enough to stop the doctors from forcing him to use his dangerous new trick in their tests. He couldn't remember much of that first week but the pain.

The first time he remembered being dragged back down to the cells, he had been coughing up his own charred and bloody innards, in a world of pain and barely conscious. He was thrown carelessly into a cell before the guards turned and left the room, slamming the large metal door leading to the rest of the lab shut loudly behind them.

He had writhed in agony for several moments, in such horrible pain that he was sure he would die, when he had suddenly felt a small gentle hand on his face. Startled he had tried to get away, but that only caused him to cough up more bloody chunks from his lungs, and he curled up into a ball of misery. The gentle hand found his forehead again, and smoothed back his bangs. He tried to see who was touching him, but his vision swam and all he could make out of the world were dark shadows and blobs.

He remembered his head being pillowed in a soft lap and the gentle hand continuing to run soothingly through his hair. The terrible burning in his chest was slowly replaced by a cool tingle, and he shivered as its blessing relief washed over him. After a long while, he remembered suddenly realizing that he was sobbing, and he instinctively curled around the lap of the kind gentle soul tending to his wounded and suffering body. He distantly heard a soft voice begin humming a comforting, yet almost melancholic tune and the despair in his soul began recede along with the pains of his body until he felt whole again.

The cool tingling sensation had ebbed as his injuries healed completely, but the tender being had continued to hum, and stroke his hair soothingly until the wretched sound of the metal door opening cut through the peacefulness of the room. As the guards measured booted steps approached the cell, Kurt had sat up and looked into a pair of deep mahogany eyes; the most gentle, warm, and melancholic eyes he had ever seen.

Then, he was yanked roughly out of the girl's cell, and dragged a short ways before being shoved brusquely into his own; whole and healed and ready to face the new series of experiments scheduled for the next day. And when he was returned broken and bloody the following day, and every other day he was experimented on, he was once again left in the care of the girl's healing touch for an hour or two before being thrown back into his cell.

He smiled forlornly, thinking about how her healing sessions had done more than just repair his battered body; those few short moments in her comforting lap, listening to her sweet songs had helped keep him sane in that awful hell. Letting go of her hand, he reached for something under his T-shirt's neckline and pulled it over his head. Sitting up a little straighter, Kurt began the ritual he performed faithfully every time he came to visit the green girl.

Kurt signed the cross, then quietly began praying in his native tongue, a beautiful rosewood Rosary dangling from his tridactyl hands. He did this every night at her bedside since they had arrived at the mansion. And before then, he would pray in his cell every night after the first week of his imprisonment. He remembered that at first, he had done so out loud, but quietly enough to not bother anyone else, perched upside down in the darkest corner of the ceiling, comfortingly invisible in the shadows.

Several days later, in the precious interlude he and the young healer would have before the guards returned him to his cage, Botany had surprised him with a small but precious gift. She had tapped his shoulder and he sat up to look her, wondering what the mute girl was trying to communicate to him. She took hold of one of his hands and placed what looked like a long string in it just as the guards burst into the room.

As soon as they had left him in his cell and exited, he examined the strange object and gasped in surprise. It was indeed a string, apparently woven from the same cloth their prison uniforms were made of. However, it had been tied and knotted in a very particular pattern; and as Kurt looked at the two tiny pieces of twig dangling from the circlet tied in the shape of a cross, he realized it was undoubtedly a Rosary.

He looked up across the room to the girl's cage, whispering her named in a mix of awe and gratitude for the seemly insignificant little gift. She looked down shyly, before rummaging around in the sleeve of her long smock and pulling out and holding up a similarly crafted Rosary of her own, a timid smile on her heart-shaped face. From that day on, they always prayed together.

Now Kurt prayed softly at her bedside, hoping that even though his reverent words were hoarse and barely above a whisper, that she could hear them in her dreams and pray silently along with him as she did in their cells. He was so focused on his task that he didn't notice the long sigh escaping from the slight body before him as he reached the end of the second _Our Father_. He continued devotedly onto the _Hail Mary_, and did not notice the long nymph ears twitch.

Anastasia's eyelids fluttered slightly as a thin raspy voice penetrated the fog of the deep sleep more loudly than usual. She could recall hearing the steady rhythm of these same prayers for a long time. But they had always sounded far and out of reach, barely intelligible. Today, although the voice was weak and pained, she could hear them coming from right beside her. And indeed, as she finally succeeded in pulling her tired eyes open, she realized that they _were_ coming from right beside her.

Her foggy vision settled on a strange blue blob, emitting the prayers in a language she could not comprehend. She may not have understood, but the rhythm of the prayers allowed her to follow along in her own language.

" _. . . Heilige Maria, Mutter Gottes, bitte für uns Sünder jetzt und in der Stunde unseres Todes. Amen . . . "_

_. . . Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros, pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amen . . . _

But Kurt found himself abruptly coughing in the middle of his next _Hail Mary_, and he nearly dropped the prayer beads as his body seized almost violently with each searing cough. He hunched over, leaning on the hospital bed as the fit continued, fire catching in his already burned throat, making his eyes water and smoke slip through the fingers covering his mouth.

Anastasia was startled from her drowsy stupor by the sudden hacking cough that sounded rather painful. She could smell smoke, and her brow furrowed, the strong scent triggering a string of memories. As her vision cleared, she finally recognized the hunched figure beside her as that of the fuzzy boy that had been her inmate for months now. She looked around her quickly, not recognizing her surroundings; but chilled by their terrible similarities to the laboratory.

Kurt seemed to choke beside her, and she was alarmed to see blood dripping from his chin, staining the pristine white sheets of the bed she laid in a deep crimson. The procedure already second nature, she placed a soothing hand on the crown of his bowed head and let her healing powers slowly regenerate the damaged tissue inside the boy's body. A soft emerald glow filled the room as her healing began to take effect.

Kurt was in a world of fiery pain before he even felt the blood begin to dribble down his chin. Just when he thought he may pass out, he felt someone gently touch him, and a familiar cooling sensation invade his chest. Slowly his coughs subsided, and he could breathe easier, as he looked up suddenly. His teary golden eyes widened as they locked with a familiar concerned mahogany pair.

"Hallo kleine Blume," he greeted her with a smile.

* * *

**A/N:** Taa Daa!! Short chapter this time. I hope you like. Please review, it encourages me to update faster!! Well, I am sleepy now and will go to bed!! I shall leave a plate of cookies out for reviewers! G'nite! 


	6. Bonds

**Disclaimer:** I don't own X-Men: Evolution. I never will. Ever. (WAILS) Anywayz, (lol) I'm not making mulaa offa dis so donna sue me!!

**A/N:** Finals week! WOOOOT!!! . . . wtf am I saying?! Well, my brain is fried. And I really should be studying instead of writing this; but I won't have internet for a while, so I figured I'd get another short chapter in before going on vacation for another month. Thanks for the awesome reviews everyone. They seriously mean a lot!!

_TIME OF YEAR_: When Kurt and the others were found in the mountain it was around April. Ana has been comatose for two months, making the current date in this fic sometime in June. Therefore, the x-men are finishing up the school year. Oh! The joys of final exams!!

_**OOC**_: I figured I should put in an OOC warning for this chapter. It definitely applies to Kitty, and maybe Amanda, and perhaps even for Rogue. Kurmanda me no likey!! Not in Evo, not even in the comics. So sorry to hardcore Kurmanda fans, maybe you should just stop reading here. I unfortunately dapple into all of the X-men universes simultaneously, which often affects my views of these amazing characters. It's impossible for me to write a fic without somehow pulling in characteristics for these people from alternate universes in the Marvel world, and sometimes even Role Plays that I read, so that often causes a lot of OOC. Sorry in advance!!. But, hopefully, it's forgivable. Or who knows, y'all may not consider it out of character at all.

_– La Loba_

_Italics_ – flashback

**WARNING**: This story in general deals with abuse and has some mildly graphic violence. Thus the rating PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you, or you don't like it, then don't read this story. You have been warned.

* * *

**Botanik**

By: _La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 6: _Bonds_

Kitty sat alone in the room she and Rogue shared. She couldn't understand what was going on with herself. She knew that she had over-reacted, and said many things she probably shouldn't have, but she just couldn't stand to be near the Japanese child; and she couldn't understand how Kurt and Miss Munroe could spend countless hours with him either. They had both also fallen prey to those frightening eyes, so why weren't they afraid?

Then there was the strange comatose girl who lay in a hospital bed somewhere deep in the Institute's underground infirmary. He went to visit her for _hours_ everyday, but he couldn't have called _once_ while she had been away? And to add insult to injury, he wasn't even there to welcome her back at her first supper in the Institute in over a month. She felt her blood broil just thinking about it. Kitty had never gotten jealous of any of the other recruits the institute had had since she arrived. Of course, Kurt also never spent so much time with any of them either. She sighed exasperated with herself, and flopped back onto her bed staring at the ceiling.

The door to the room suddenly creaked opened, and Rogue quietly stepped in. She walked over to her own bed and promptly pulled a review book out from under her pillow; taking out her CD player, she placed the headphones on and began to study.

"Rogue?" Kitty asked tentatively. She waited a moment but wasn't answered. She called again a bit more loudly.

The Goth looked up from her book then, pulling off her ear phones, "Hmm?"

Kitty hesitated not sure how she wanted to phrase her question. She delayed so long that the other girl became impatient.

"_Well?"_ Rogue stressed the word in annoyance.

"Umm . . . never mind," Kitty said eventually.

Rogue huffed irritated and was about to put her head phones back on when Kitty finally spoke what was on her mind.

"What's the creepy kid like?"

"_What?"_

"Like, what's the—"

"I _heard_ what you said! Kitty ya oughtta know better than to—"

"But he is creepy!! And like _don't_ tell me he's not! He's dangerous!"

"Oh! Quit whining like a baby! You don't even know what you're talkin' bout!"

"Of course I do! Like you're the one who doesn't know! He hasn't _attacked_ you!"

"You hush up! I can't _believe_ ya! That poor thing hasn't attacked anyone. He has no _control_. He can't help _looking_ at people any more than I can help _touching_ them. It was purely an accident, Kitty. So don't ya _dare_ sit there and try to tell _me_ of all people otherwise." Rogue pulled her earphones back on, and went back to her book, a scowl on her face.

A knock on their door, and Rogue looked towards Kitty, but the girl had sprawled pathetically on her bed after giving up conversing with the Goth girl.

Shaking her head, she called out, "Come in."

Evan poked his head into the room, feeling the tension in it, and explained, "Mr. McCoy wants us in the living room. He said he needed to tell us something. I think it's about the new girl."

Kitty shot up in bed, "What about her?"

"I dunno! But I can't wait to find out!" he replied eagerly.

"Oh well like that's just great! Now _you're_ on their side _too_!" Kitty retorted angrily.

"Huh? Kitty? What are ya talking about?" Evan asked confused by the girl's reaction.

"Kitty, would ya stop being so childish!" Rogue scolded, "Forget her, Porcupine, let's go."

They exited the room, Evan grumbling about his nickname, and leaving the door open behind them. Kitty got up and slammed it shut in frustration. She stood there for a few moments taking deep breaths. Once more, she had lost it at the mention of one of _those_ two! She groaned, and flopped onto her bed once more. She was now certain it was jealousy as much as fear. She sighed. Now she only had to figure out what to do about it.

* * *

Hank shook his head chuckling at his students' expected reaction; a million questions all at the same time. He held up a huge furry hand, efficiently silencing them all, "One at a time kids, I'm a mutant not a super man."

"When can we see her Mr. McCoy?" Scott asked the most prominent question on everyone's mind.

"First things first, Scott. We should get her settled and informed about where she is before anyone can meet her. Now, we need to find her something suitable to wear. I'm sure she'll want to extricate herself from a hospital gown. Amara, my dear, would you be so kind as to lend her some of your clothes for the time being?" She asked.

"Of course! I'll put something together for her right away!" the younger mutant offered helpfully.

"I'll help ya pick something out. With all your clothes, it'll take forever before ya come back!" Tabitha teased, receiving a playful punch from Amara. The two girls left and hurried to Amara's room.

"Now, concerning visitation . . . " the Beast tried to choose his words carefully, his tone serious, "As you all know our new arrivals have had to face some rather incredible hardships. Therefore, we cannot expect them to miraculously adjust to the type of life we are accustomed to having here at the institute. At this moment in time, Anastasia is unacquainted with normal social interaction, and is extremely wary of strangers. We must do everything in our power to make her feel welcome and out of harm's way here."

The students nodded in agreement, a bit unnerved by the graveness of their mentor's tone, in spite of the happy news of the girl's awakening. And although they were eager to meet their new teammate, there was still some apprehension about the situation; what if it turned out be just like the little boy's? Before they had time to contemplate this any further, Amara and Tabitha returned with some clothes for said girl.

"Wonderful, thank you girls," Hank said in gratitude.

"Mr. McCoy, may I bring 'em to down to her?" Rogue asked.

"Why yes, of course. Thank you for volunteering. Ororo and Kurt are already down there. Please offer any assistance if needed."

"Sure thing," Rogue replied.

As the Southern Belle walked to the special elevator that led to the lower levels of the institute, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at finally being able to speak to the mysterious girl that had so deftly captured her brother's affection. She giggled slightly at the thought, and wondered if Kurt even realized it yet. It was certainly obvious to her.

Over the past two months, Rogue had sometimes accompanied her adoptive brother on the numerous visits he would pay the comatose girl. She wondered if the fuzzball noticed the fondness in his voice when he spoke to the girl as she continued to dream in their presence. She also contemplated if he realized how defensive he was of her and the small boy he had come home with whenever he caught any of the students gossiping about the two mutants; as they were ought to do at times, they were only human. It made Rogue glad, as it signified that Kurt may finally be getting over his heartache.

She sighed inwardly as thinking of her brother's past object of affection stirred up memories of his painful breakup. It had been almost half a year since he and Amanda had broken up; it had happened only two months before Kurt's abduction. Her father had gotten a promotion, but his new office would be on the West coast, forcing the family to move across the country. Of all the days, Amanda chose Christmas Eve to announce the news to a very shocked Kurt. Rogue remembered the scene as if it had happened yesterday; she had been there . . .

* * *

_Rogue approached the mansion's main den with the intent of bringing Kurt and Amanda some of Ororo's freshly made hot cocoa. But as she neared the room and their murmuring voices became clearer, she realized that the conversation taking place was not a pleasant one. Putting the tray with the cups down on a table outside the room's entrance, she quietly crept towards the door and cracked it open enough to look inside. _

"_Vas?! But couldn't ve just write or call each other? Be a long distance couple?" Kurt suggested weakly. He was standing a few feet in front of Amanda, his face clearly anguished, his arms bent at the elbows and hands opened before him in a pleading gesture._

"_No, Kurt. My parents pay the bills for both my cell and my bedroom phone. They'd noticed if I was making or receiving strange calls. And there's no way I could pay for a private PO Box, or make sure to always get to our home mailbox first. It's just not plausible, Kurt."_

"_Vell . . . couldn't you have at least told me on another day?" Kurt emitted something that sounded like a strangled laugh as he ran one hand through his indigo hair, and hesitated for a moment before going on, "Amanda . . . I gave up the chance to go back home for Christmas this year, so I could spend it vith _you_. And now . . . "_

"_Oh, Kurt! I didn't want for it to turn out like this. I'm sorry! But, you know how long distance relationships are, they rarely last; and to keep it a secret? It's just too much, Kurt, I wouldn't be able to handle that kind of pressure."_

"_Jawol. I understand," he responded, voice quiet and dejected as he looked down at his bare animal like feet. _

"_Kurt, look at me," Amanda asked gently, taking one of Kurt's furry blue tridactyl hands in her own, "You'll always have a special place in my heart. You're smart, and funny. You're always a gentleman. You—"_

"_Look like a hideous demon," Kurt concluded darkly, pulling away from her and placing his hands in his pockets, looking hard at the floor. _

"_Kurt, please, no you don't! Don't talk like that!"_

"_It's true. Don't bother denying it."_

"_Kurt, you're an amazing guy! You know you're looks have never mattered to me—"_

"_And how many other girls like you, do you think are out zere?"_

"_Kurt, I'm sorry," Amanda replied in a wavery voice._

"_Ack! Nein, don't cry. If I must say goodbye to you, then I vould have you smiling ven you hear it." _

"_Tsk, you overly romantic jerk," Amanda replied in a half laugh, half sob. _

_She stepped up to the blue furred boy and hugged him, as she took a minute to calm down. He hugged her back tightly, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead as she stepped back, his golden eyes suspiciously shiny._

"_Auf Wiedersehen Liebling."_

_Amanda gave him a watery smile, but could not bring herself to bid him farewell in return. Ducking her head to hide her tears, she quickly exited the room, almost bumping into Rogue on her way out. She had the presence of mind to mumble a short 'Merry Christmas,' before turning the corner and heading into the foyer. Rogue stayed in her place, a bit shocked by what she had just witnessed until she heard the large wooden doors of the main entrance close firmly as Amanda exited the mansion, never to return._

_The sound of a bamf snapped her out of her state of shock, and she opened the door of the den to find only a cloud of smoke in Kurt's wake. Immediately turning, she ran up the stairs taking them two at a time, heading straight for Kurt's room. She reached his door and was about to knock when she suddenly froze._

_What was she thinking? Why was she suddenly rushing to . . . What was she even doing? Had she seriously just considered trying to comfort the boy? Why would he want her to comfort him? She wouldn't even be able to touch him like a normal person. Besides that, didn't she find the fuzzy elf annoying beyond all reason? At least, that was the front she put up whenever the German boy tried to talk to her, tried to hang out with her, or just tried to get close to her. _

_Rogue put her ear to the door and listened for a moment, making out the sound of quiet sobs from the other side. She chewed her bottom lip indecisively before determining that she should just leave him be. Kurt was a boy after all; and boys hated to be seen crying. Yea, that's right; she could talk to him later. It was late and tomorrow was Christmas; she'd see him down at the tree in the morning. _

_The next day came, but the elf did not come down for a Christmas morning of gift unwrapping. Nor did he appear in the dining room as dinnertime approached and those present at the mansion gathered for a Christmas feast of Ororo's cooking. _

"_Where is Kurt? I can't believe he's skipping one of my meals! He hasn't even come down to open his presents," Ororo said a bit worried._

"_Well, it is his first Christmas without his parents. Maybe he's just feeling a bit blue," Rogue suggested quietly, making a slight face as she realized the word pun. The adults nodded, but didn't seem too convinced._

_The sound of the telephone suddenly rang loudly over the quiet Christmas tunes reverberating through the mansion. The Professor wheeled over to the small table just outside the dining room and answered in German. Apparently the Psychic had already known who it was._

"_Rogue," he called into the dining room, and the young woman turned in her chair, "Would you please let Kurt know that his parents are on the line for him."_

_The Southern Belle nodded, and headed up the stairs to alert the furry teenager. She hesitated only momentarily before knocking. For a long moment there was no answer, so Rogue knocked again a little louder. _

"_Hey furball, your parents are callin' ya! Pick up the phone!" She shouted through the door, before putting her ear to it. _

_She heard shuffling, and the sound of the receiver being picked up before Kurt began speaking in a soft melancholic German voice; exchanging Christmas wishes and the like. Eventually, Amanda's name was mentioned, and she heard Kurt choke slightly when he spoke it. She couldn't understand what he was saying, but he had a feeling his parents were asking him to give her their best wishes, blissfully unaware that the girl was no longer going to be a part of their son's life. And of course, as much as it killed him to do so, Kurt was probably playing along; not willing to inform his parents of the missed opportunity for their reunion. After a good half hour, she heard Kurt place the receiver back down, and the bed springs creak; followed by very soft sniffles. _

_Rogue took a deep breath and knocked again, "Kurt?"_

_No answer._

"_Kurt?" she asked and knocked again._

_Still no answer. Rogue was not known for her patience and she suddenly found herself very annoyed and threatening the depressed mutant on the other side of the wooden door._

"_Kurt Wagner! Y'all open this door, this very minute or I'll come in there and pound the fur right off your hide, ya hear!"_

_The door cracked open almost immediately and she saw two wary golden eyes peaking at her from behind the door. _

"_Why haven't ya come down to eat?"_

"_I'm not hungry."_

"_Oh, baloney! You're always hungry! Ms. Munroe spent a lot of time on this supper so you could just up and miss it. She made all your favorites. Now come down and eat," she commanded in a tone that allowed for no argument. _

_But Kurt wasn't feeling very cooperative, "Ack, Rogue . . . just leave me alone . . ."_

"_What for? So you can sit up here and mope all Christmas day? I most certainly will not!" she said pushing the door open, and grabbing one of Kurt's furry hands, "Ya ain't spending a blue Christmas 'cause some dimwitted gal couldn't tell what bad timing was if it hit her in the face."_

"_How do you—" Kurt began as he was pulled out of his room and dragged down the hall. _

"_It ain't important. Now come down here and eat some of this food, before Ororo has to leave. Ya know she and Evan go home for the holidays, and she cooked this just for me and you. So ya best stuff your face, understand?" she concluded as they approached the threshold of the dining room._

"_Your vish is my command, Fräulein," Kurt said sarcastically as they took their places at the table. _

"_Kurt! Merry Christmas! Where have you been all day? I was afraid I'd have to leave before seeing you. These," she said as she uncovered several silver trays brimming with food, "are especially for you Kurt. I know this is your first Christmas away from home, so I asked you mother what you usually have for dinner. She said these were all your favorites, and even gave me the recipes."_

_Kurt looked around the trays full of steaming food, his mouth watering unconsciously as delicious foods were revealed; and at the same time so did his eyes when he thought of his mother struggling to give Storm the recipes of his favorite traditional German Christmas dishes through her broken English; as well as Ororo slaving away in the kitchen all day to make sure they all came out perfect. _

"_Ein herzliches Dankeschön__," Kurt said, genuinely touched at the weather witch's thoughtfulness. (My heartfelt thanks.)_

"_You're very welcome Kurt. Now I must head over to Evan's. Merry Christmas everyone!" she bit farewell walking out of the door. _

_The only ones left then were the Professor, Hank, Logan, Rogue, and Nightcrawler, who promptly dug in to their early Christmas dinner. Not letting a bite of Ororo's hard work go to waste. She had similarly prepared several customary Southern Christmas dishes for Rogue as well. Adding to the mix, some delightful African delicacies as well as the traditional New England dishes, the table was a veritable potpourri of foodstuffs. It was probably more than enough food for five people, but with Kurt eating for ten, things evened out. _

_Soon, the instructors polished off their plates and got up to share some of the fine brandy Logan received that morning in the Professor's den, leaving the two teenagers to their own devices; trusting that Rogue would keep her often hyperactive brother from getting into too much trouble. Rogue for her part had finished her meal long ago, and was simply waiting on Kurt to finish. The blue-furred teen, however, had been refilling his plate for the last two hours and had yet to show any signs of slowing down. _

_As she watched him reach over the potato salad for more apple strudel, she broke the silence of her quiet vigil, "So, feeling any better on a full stomach?"_

"_Vas do you mean? I'm not even half done yet!" Kurt replied a bit too cheerfully._

"_Ya know what I'm talkin' about."_

_A piece of strudel paused momentarily halfway on its journey to Kurt's mouth, and the young mutant looked the Southern girl in the eye seriously for a moment._

"_How much do you know?"_

"_I saw everything last night, Kurt. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."_

"_Ja," Kurt snorted slightly, shoveling the piece of strudel into his mouth finally before continuing a bit bitterly around the food, "Me 'oo." _

"_Don't talk with your mouth full. It's gross," Rogue complained halfheartedly, then suddenly irritated, "Aren't ya done yet?"_

"_You, Fräulein, are the one who dragged me unwillingly from the confines of my room in the first place. So don't complain now zat you have given me the opportunity to drown my sorrows in food."_

"_Tsk," Rogue made a sound of annoyance, "Ya just have to be irritating 24/7, don't ya?"_

_Kurt seemed to visibly deflate at that comment and Rogue immediately regretted it having left her mouth. He finished off the last of his strudel with noticeable difficultly before setting his utensils down on the table and turning to Rogue with a disconcertingly serious expression._

"_Do I really annoy you so much?" he asked her in a nervous tone she'd never heard him use before._

"_What?" was all she could think to say in her shock._

"_I'm sorry if I do. It must be terrible to have to deal vith only me for company during this holiday."_

"_Kurt—"_

"_No, it's okay. I understand. Look, I vill just stay out of your vay for the rest—"_

"_Stop! Just stop! What is wrong with ya? she cut him off angrily and seeing the way he flinched she growled in frustration. _

_Kurt just stared at his plate, sounding rather dejected, "I guess zere is a lot wrong vith me—"_

"_No! Dang it!" she growled again, "Look, I'm the one that's sorry! That came out all wrong. Everything just keeps coming out all wrong."_

_Kurt gave her a strange look._

"_Ya don't annoy me Kurt," at his disbelieving look she corrected herself, "Well, at least not as much as I make it seem. Look, I'm just mad right now 'cause I didn't get to hit that Amanda girl in the face before she left, is all!"_

"_Don't say zat!" Kurt retorted angrily, "It vasn't her fault."_

"_Oh and whose was it, Kurt? And don't ya dare blame yourself 'cause I will smack ya into next Tuesday!"_

_Kurt looked away guiltily. _

"_Kurt! I don't believe you blame yourself for this! How could—"_

"_LOOK AT ME, ROGUE!" Kurt suddenly seethed rather loudly, his nearly pupiless golden eyes filled with self-hatred. _

"_I AM!" she shouted back equally as angry, but for different reasons, "Dammit, Kurt! The world ain't gonna stop turning because some witless Yankee doodling gal hopped to it and decided to leave ya behind. She was plain stupid if she can't see what she's giving up; but there will be another girl in the future, smart enough to avoid the same mistake!"_

_Kurt looked at her, eyes slightly wide, and more than a little unwilling to believe that the little motivational speech had just come from the biggest loner in all the X-men. She caught his incredulous stare and blushed slightly, turning away in a miffed manner, arms crossed in front of her defensively._

"_I'm telling ya this because it's creepy when you're moping around like some damn kicked puppy. I don't like seeing ya that way. And I can't stand hearing people beating themselves up. It's pathetic, so quit it. I much prefer the annoying goofball Kurt to the creepy emo one. Thank you very much."_

"_Vas if the creepy emo is the real Kurt?" he asked quietly, looking at her with sad eyes as she whipped her head around to pin him with a glare._

"_Well, then, ya better tell him to shove off and go stick his head in the pig's trough, 'cause the creepy emo role is already being handled quite efficiently by me!"_

_Kurt stared at her for a minute before he suddenly burst out laughing. Rogue looked at him bewildered for a minute, before inquiring 'what the hell was so funny.' But that only made the blue mutant laugh harder. She tried to tell him to shut up, but found herself fending off a rising giggle in the back of her throat. It was a losing battle and eventually she found herself laughing along with the other teen. As the minutes went by they laughed harder and harder, until tears were leaking from Rogue's eyes, and Kurt was practically howling._

"_Vas . . . vas are . . . " Kurt was trying to speak between peals of laughter, "Vas are ve laughing about?"_

_It took a minute for Rogue to calm down enough to answer, but her answer only caused the two to explode into another round of uncontrollable giggles._

"_I . . . I dunno!"_

_The teens' hysteria eventually caught the attention of the adults and the Beast poked his head in the dining room to raise an eyebrow at the overly mirthful youths. He approached the laughing pair, and picked up one of their cups. _

"_Kurt Wagner, did you break into Logan's liquor cabinet again?" he asked mildly as he sniffed the cup he held gingerly. _

_Unfortunately, his words and actions only fueled the other two's giggle fit, just as they were calming down. Shaking his head and chuckling heartily at the giddy siblings, he helped them out of there chairs and suggested that they aid him in clearing the table. Fifteen minutes of giggles, and an almost food fight later, the three had cleared the dining room table, and the Beast had seen it fit to leave the much more sober teens loading up the dish washer while he returned to the den once again. Kurt was smiling broadly, and Rogue was still giggling slightly as the two worked diligently to load the monstrous amount of dishes into the institute's industrial size dishwasher. _

_When they finished with that, they headed to the main Rec room, where they had set up the tree and opened Kurt's presents together. And after that was done, they moved to the couch in front of the blazing fireplace, grabbing the bowl of assorted nuts from the small table in front of them, and cracking away as they conversed about everything and anything that came to their minds. It was peaceful, quiet, and beautiful; the tree glowing with lights and decorations, the fireplace roaring, and the soft sounds of Christmas songs playing on the Professor's old turntable. Kurt grabbed another walnut, but paused a minute to study the redhead girl who was his adoptive sister as he waited for her to finish with the nutcracker._

_Rogue was very pretty, and had a dazzling smile. But that beautiful face, more often than not was hidden behind a stern look, or discouraging scowl. She came off as distant and cold, but deep down, she was a lonely quiet girl, with a devastating power that forced her to harden her heart, and to push people away. She had put up such an amazing front of the 'uncaring Goth,' that even Kurt, a master fronts himself, had almost fallen for it. He discovered today, what he had suspected all along. Rogue cared deeply about them, but had trouble, was afraid even to let it show. _

_They had a lot more in common than Kurt had originally thought. Rogue hid behind her scowl, while he hid behind his smile. She had fooled him, with her antisocial persona the way he had fooled her with his clownish antics. But inside, they were both hurting deeply. They were both insecure, lonely, and afraid of getting hurt. They both lived by the rule, 'Look but don't touch.' Rogue due to her power, and Kurt due to his image inducer. If she touched someone, she could kill them, if someone touched him they could feel his fur or strange hands, and discover what he was. _

_Eventually, Rogue noticed his stare, and quipped good-naturedly, "What ya looking at fuzzball?"_

_Kurt shook his head, "Nothing. Just thinking how alike we are."_

"_Really," she said unconvinced, "How's that?"_

"_Ve're both afraid of getting close to people."_

_Rogue stilled in the middle of passing him the nutcracker, and looked at Kurt, expressionless._

"_And ve have good reason to be. After all, look at vas happened vith Amanda."_

"_Don't do that, Kurt. It ain't healthy."_

"_Don't be a hypocrite. You've been doing it all your life too."_

"_Kurt. If you find another person who accepts you the way you are, don't close your heart off to them. Promise me that you'll at least give it a shot."_

"_Why should I?"_

"_Because ya __**can**__, Kurt."_

_She said it in a voice that was so utterly defeated that Kurt couldn't stand it. He moved forward suddenly and hugged her, much to her surprised dismay._

"_Kurt! Have ya lost your damn mind! Let go—" _

"_Nein, Rogue!"_

"_Kurt! No! I mean it! Get away from—"_

"_Nein! I vant to hug my sister! I vant her to know vas it's like to be held by someone who cares about her! I vant to hug her, because I __**can**__!" _

_Rogue was quiet, still and stiff in his embrace for a long, long while, afraid that any wrong move might hurt the fuzzy boy wrapped around her. _

"_It's okay, Rogue. You von't hurt me," he assured her gently as she tentatively began to wrap clothed her arms around him. _

_Her vision blurred, and she wanted to cry but she stubbornly held onto her control, not willing to ruin the beautiful gift by turning into a sobbing mess; besides, her makeup would run. Seeing as he wasn't dead yet, she squeezed her adoptive brother a little tighter, carefully resting her shin on his shoulder, making sure her hair wouldn't permit their faces to accidentally make contact. _

"_Frohe Weihnachten, Rogue," he whispered to her quietly._

"_Merry Christmas, Kurt," she whispered back just as softly._

* * *

Being the only ones who stayed at the institute for the holidays that year had served as quite a blessing; it had allowed the two teens to strengthen their bond as brother and sister. She got to know Kurt better than all of the other X-men; she got to see the real him, without any pretenses. She got to share her favorite books and movies with him. She got him into her favorite rock bands. And she got to beat it into his head that the world wouldn't stop turning just because Amanda left. And in turn, Rogue also allowed Kurt in to witness _her_ true self. She let him make her laugh. She let him teach her a bunch of silly magic tricks he had learned from one of the magicians at the circus. And she allowed him to hug her as often as he felt like it; as long as it wasn't in front of anyone of course, even she had an image to uphold.

As the elevator reached its final destination, it dinged loudly and opened its doors wide. Rogue walked out and headed for the infirmary with a spring in her step and a small smile on her face.

* * *

**A/N:** The dialogue was evil, but I dunno. . . I actually kinda like the chapter this time. Please be wonderful readers and review!! Christmas ham, and apple strudel for everyone who does! Yum, num, num!! XDDD 


	7. Reunion

**Disclaimer:** I don't own X-Men: Evolution. I never will. Ever. (WAILS) Anywayz, (lol) I'm not making mulaa offa dis so donna sue me!!

**A/N:** I've been reading a lot of amazing fanfic lately, and totally got inspired to keep going with this chapter. Sequencing this story has been hell. But finally, I have something to show for my hard work. The plot thickens! Dun dun dun! Lemme know if I lose any of ya. And thanks a million for the reviews; I got some really awesome ones. Thanks a bunch!! Now for some Accent reminders, enjoy free the lessons in the phonetics, phonology, and linguistics of languages you'll probably never use! Woot!! \(o)/ . . . I'm a Linguistics Major, sue me.

**Notes on Accents: **_**I've gotten several complaints about this, some nice some not so nice. I decided to demonstrate the accents in this story because I believe that it greatly affects the verisimilitude of these characters. I'm sorry to those who don't like it, but I won't change it. So here is a guide for you readers to Skim or Skip at will:**_

_French_

**1**—Like in the German accent, the constants '_th_' often become a '_**z**_;' but regardless of this similarity words are pronounced differently. For example: 'the' becomes '_**z**_e' for both German and French accents, however it is pronounced '_**zee'**_ in French, and '_**zeh'**_ in German. 'That' becomes '_**z**_at,' but it is said '_**zet'**_ in French, and '_**z**_-_**ah**_-_**t**_' in German.

**2**—The consonant 'H' in French is silent, so it will often be dropped off of words like he, have, him, her, becoming 'e, 'ave, 'im, and 'er.

3—On a final note, like many French speakers, Cambrant 'hacks' the letter 'R.' There is absolutely no way to depict that in writing, so your imagination will have to do it for you.

_Japanese_

**1**—The '_L_' does not exist in Japanese, so often times the Japanese pronounce it as an '**R**' when speaking foreign languages.

**2**—The letter '_V_' doesn't exist in Japanese either, so it will always change to a '**B**.' Words like '_very_' then become '_**b**_ery.'

**3**—In Japanese syntax, verbs always come at the end of the sentence; so when Kyoumu trips over his English, he'll revert back to that form and end up with something like: _"You first me funny __rook__!" _instead of _"You __look__ at me funny first."_ Notice the _position_ of the underlined verb.

_This is based entirely upon my observations over the past year, on how my Japanese and French instructors, all of whom vary in fluency, speak English; as well as my limited knowledge of the French and Japanese languages._

**Alouette:** This is a popular French children's song and is basically about plucking the feathers off a lark. It's a sequential song much like _The Twelve Days of Christmas_. I did not find it essential to translate, but if your interested in the translation, I have linked it on my profile.

**Ana's Lullaby: **I have provided a link in my profile for the Lullaby which partially inspired this chapter, and is hummed therein by Anastasia. I admittedly stole it from the film _El laberinto del fauno_, it's English title is _Pan's Labyrinth_. (One of the most amazing films made in the past year, totally rent it if you can; it's so worth it!!) It has no words and is simply a beautiful haunting melody that just fit so perfectly into the scene and with Ana's disability that I couldn't imagine it being anything else. So head over to my profile and have a listen to it!!

**Project RAM Numerations:** Okay, all the cellmates had their typical reference numbers in the first chapter, just a reminder for those who've forgotten them. Brownie points to anyone who can identify where these numbers are from!!

**M42**—Fuhen

**M45**—Anastasia

**M97**—Kyoumu

Alright, enough notes, onto the story!!

_– La Loba_

_Italics_ – flashback

**WARNING**: Likely **OOC**, and steadily becoming **AU**, please forgive. This story in general deals with abuse and has some mildly graphic violence. Thus the rating PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you, or you don't like it, then don't read this story. You have been warned.

* * *

**Sanctum**

By: _La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 7: _Reunion_

"Did he take the bait?" Commander Tordre asked the mutant standing before him in his office, not looking up from his paperwork.

"Oui, monsieur," Cambrant responded promptly.

"Good. Take care of this carefully Rondelle. We cannot lose any of these specimens. Be especially cautious of Neutral. Now that we no longer have the leverage to keep him in check, his abilities will make him nigh impossible to detain once he has fully healed. This is your last chance Rondelle. No more foul ups, understood?" he looked up finally to settle his stern gaze on his raven-haired daughter.

"Oui, monsieur," she turned and exited his office quietly.

Placing her hands in her pockets, she walked down the long corridor at a leisurely pace. As she reached the main offices, she continued at her lazy speed through the room full of desks occasionally flipping over the random desk knickknack that caught her eye; smiling snidely when the owner looked up glaring only to realize it was their commander's daughter messing with their office space. Since there were no more people to taunt and torment when she exited the large room, Cambrant ripped open a portal and stepped in. She popped out an instant later three levels below, in front of the prison cell occupying the Japanese mutant she had just spoken about with her father.

She smiled coquettishly at the two men guarding his cell, before addressing the young man inside, "Time to go, Rouge. Vite!" _(Red; Hurry up!)_

The guards moved to unlock the cell, but were surprised out of their actions when Cambrant suddenly burst into howling laughter. One turned to scowl at the hysterical girl, when his partner's cry of surprise drew his attention back to the cell.

The mutant known to them as Neutral had simply unlatched the shackles chaining him to the wall, and was now doing the same to the handcuffs binding his hands. Free of his restraints, he walked toward the cell door and the guards couldn't help but take an apprehensive step back. The mutant placed a hand on the lock and the door's complex locking mechanism echoed loudly as it merely unbolted itself. The heavy metal door creaked open and Neutral stepped out calmly, smirking at the disconcerted guards.

Cambrant continued wiping tears from her face, as she tried to catch her breath between bouts of giggles. It wasn't until Neutral's irritated sigh that she regained some control of herself.

"Are you done yet?" he asked annoyed.

Cambrant giggled and opened a large portal. With comical over exaggerated motions, she swept her arms towards the glowing indigo and black oval, as a show girl might motion to the prize on a game show. Neutral rolled his eyes and carefully stepped into the portal, as Cambrant turned to look at the guards with contempt.

"Idiots," she said wide a wide grin.

The French mutant promptly disappeared into the portal with a giggle, a loud zip the only answer to the guards' offended visages.

* * *

"Amazing!" the Beast exclaimed excitedly, "Simply astonishing! The tissue doesn't even register any scarring. What a wondrous gift!"

He stood before the backlit x-rays he had taken of Kurt's esophagus and lungs, to examine the status of the tissues abused by Kurt's unstable power. And the respiratory system that had been steadily deteriorating inside the teenager propped on his exam table had completely and miraculously regenerated back to full health; thanks to the incredible healing power Kurt had said the girl, Anastasia, had.

Said young lady was currently being entertained by the playful argument of an overexcited Kyoumu and a slightly exasperated Rogue, as she slowly sipped at a mug of broth Ororo had brought her. She had been helped through a bath and dressed in the fresh clothes Rogue had brought down for her before the Doctor arrived to check on her vitals, along with the good Professor. The Headmaster had welcomed the girl properly to his institution, explaining the situation of the past months and offering her the safe haven for as long as she needed it.

He turned back to his computer checking up on the analysis of Kurt's altered DNA. It was a routine developed as soon as Kurt arrived back at the institute to monitor the status at which Kurt new mutation was developing. The Beast had realized earlier on that new ability resulting from the alteration would not stabilize until the mutation was complete. All they could do, without genetically interfering as the other scientists had, was watch it naturally mature.

It had been a helpless, hopeless, and excruciatingly painful situation for Kurt, as all anyone could do was watch him slowly burn up alive from the inside. But now, there was some hope that Kurt would live to see the completion of this new mutation. The Beast had not wanted to alarm the boy, but the way things had been going, the future had looked very grim for the young man. The analysis finished and a window popped up on the screen filled with the various results.

"Incredible!" the Beast cried softly, suddenly leaning toward the screen, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Vas? Vas is?" Kurt hopped off the table and approached him, looking over the other's shoulder at what was merely a screen full gibberish to him.

"The alteration's development has progressed exponentially . . ." he answered absent-mindedly, "The sessions where you were obligated to use your power, how often did they occur?"

"Ack . . . almost everyday," Kurt answered quietly, a troubled look crossing his face.

"And you were healed by Miss De la Tierra after each session?" the Beast asked.

"Ja."

"Fascinating . . ." at the cross look Kurt gave him, the older man quickly clarified, "Not their experiments, Kurt, of course not! Her powers; the way she heals and regenerates damaged tissues seems to also affect the rate of development of your new mutation. It all makes sense now . . ."

"Vait, you lost me. Vas makes sense? Vas are you talking about?" Kurt asked confused as to the connections Hank was making about his mutation and Ana's power.

"Under normal circumstances, any results from genetic experimentation would take years to refine and develop, however . . . if one had means to accelerate the process, it would not be unfeasible to create and develop a mutation such as yours in such a short amount of time," Hank explained, pausing to mull a bit before continuing in a graver tone, "This new puzzle piece is . . . "

The Beast never finished his thought; looking up from the screen and setting his gaze upon Kurt's former cellmates. Ana raised her mug to hide a smile as the little blonde argued emphatically with the Southern redhead.

"_Urusai_!" the little boy was shouting loudly, but there was no bite in his words. _(Shut up!)_

"You _urusai_! Ya think I haven't learned what that means by now?" Rogue snapped back at the Japanese child; but like Kyoumu, her words were not harsh and she was just arguing for the sake of arguing.

Hank smiled at their antics, momentarily distracted from his dark conjectures, and gladly so. He stood from the console and lightly pushed Kurt in the other kids' direction, as he walked past toward the door, a data disk in hand.

"You'd best separate those two before this infirmary gains two more patients. I will discuss these findings with the Professor, no need for you to worry. I think perhaps we'll finally be able to help you take control of that fire breath," he waved a giant paw in parting as he exited the infirmary.

Kurt watched his instructor leave, his own thoughts troubled as he tried to figure out what the Beast's last train of thought meant. But then he shook his head clear of the morbid thoughts, and sighed; relieved that for the first time in over a month, his breath didn't catch fire as he exhaled. Looking over at the trio around the bed, he approached just as the harmless argument reached its peak.

"Ojousan n-no baka!!" Kyoumu stuttered, ever jittery from the caffeine in his system as he flailed his little arms madly at the girl across from his. _(Stupid girl!)_

"Annoying little twerp!" Rogue countered, not sure what he called her, but knowing full well it was not a compliment.

"Hey! Can't you two pretend you get a long? I swear Ana it's been like between these two since they saw each other," Kurt moaned in exasperation to the green girl no longer hiding her amusement at the other pair's faux animosity.

"Well, he started it," Rogue countered lamely, before looking pointedly at the blonde, "He _always_ starts it."

"N-nani wo hanashimasu ka?! Utsuosuki!!" Kyou shouted in obvious indignation, stumbling over his English, "You . . . _eeto_ . . . you first me funny rook!!" _(What are you saying?! Liar!! . . . uhh . . .)_

"What?!" Rogue tried to sound insulted, but she couldn't help but laugh at the kid's poorly constructed sentence.

Kurt tried to save face, but found himself unable to contain his laughter as well. Ana's quiet giggles soon joined the siblings, as Kyoumu looked between them slightly bewildered.

"_Oi, oi, oi!!_ What is funny?!" he whined in confusion, glaring slightly at the three through the curtain of blonde bangs. The teens just laughed harder at the younger one's expense, making an effort to stifle their mirth only as he started to pout. _(Hey, hey, hey!)_

"Now now, twerp. Don't ya get upset," Rogue cautioned, ruffling his hair to show it was all just in fun. Kyoumu huffed, not at all appeased.

"Hmph! I hate Engrish," he declared as he hunched down and crossed his arms sullenly; to his dismay, his comment only made the teens laugh once more.

* * *

"Please come in, Hank," the Professor called out to the man outside his office door before he even knocked.

"I cannot tell you enough how disconcerting that is, Charles," the Beast complained mildly as he entered the room.

"Sorry," the Professor said with an almost mischievous smile, "How is Kurt?"

"Perfectly healthy and back in top form, as if nothing had been _destroying_ his respiratory system for the last two months; and what's more, take a look at this," he answered, handing the data disk to the Professor.

The wheelchair-bound man inserted it into Cerebro's mainframe, reading the scrolling stats. When he got to Kurt DNA analysis results, his brows furrowed.

Accelerated mutation, was a dangerous affair, whose results were seldom successful, and more often than not crippled the test subject. Little Kyoumu was a fine example of exactly how disastrous the results of such a method could be. But in the case of the Institute's Nightcrawler, it seemed the lesson had already been learned, and a new approach was being tested; with much satisfactory results it seemed.

"Did you calculate the estimated date of completion?" he asked Hank in a quiet serious tone.

"The new mutation's development would have been completed over a month ago, according to the rate Kurt asserted his healing sessions occurred."

The psychic's eyes widened, his mind processing that new fact along with the details already known to them from Kurt and Kyoumu's accounts of the their imprisonment. Five mutants; four escapees; three residing; one unknown; one dead; all undeniably connected in a precise arrangement of mysterious purpose.

_Botany_, a healer of incredible capability, with powers strictly non-aggressive in nature; so much so that any attempt to force such abilities into offensive action creates rather chaotic and uncontainable consequences. Uncontainable at least without the repressive abilities of _Neutral_, a mutant with one of the most versatile suppression type powers the Professor had ever heard of. Should Kyoumu's account be trusted to be free of embellishment, the young man would have the power to contain and suppress the chaotic effects of any aggressive action taken by the green mutant. But such action was not innate in the young girl, and was something spurred only by the most intense of survival instincts; an instinct dreadfully simple to incite upon any individual with the horrid visions of the Jagan eyes possessed by the young Japanese child.

According to Kyoumu, the three of them had been in the facility the longest out the five held there in. The brothers had entered into the custody of the mysterious organization when the eldest was fifteen, and the youngest only four years old. When they arrived, the girl named Anastasia was already being held there. Throughout five long years of captivity, they suffered through unspeakable hardships; the only constant in each other's lives as the parabolic cellblock they called home for years witnessed the comings and goings of countless guards, scientists, and other mutants who never seemed to make the cut for the whatever goal the organization had in mind.

Then along came the snide, raven haired _Cambrant_, with spatial manipulative abilities compatible even with the troublesome suppressive powers of _Neutral_; which made the possibility to travel with touch teleports such as Nightcrawler null. It seems she was also brought on board due to her special tracking abilities; after a failed escape attempt by the brothers halfway through their second year held captive. This ability greatly diminished the number and success of future escape attempts, until the hot-headed elder of the siblings admitted defeat once and for all.

Subsequently, a few months earlier, Nightcrawler was captured and thrown into the mix. What his niche in the little gang would have been was unclear, and unlikely to ever be discovered as they managed to recover him before any clear course of action was taken. His teleportation skills were valued; but as they already had a spatial manipulator, what made him truly valuable in their eyes were his enhanced agility and stealth capabilities. It was apparent however, that his offensive skills were not sufficient for the organization's liking, and so the need for the additional mutation of fire breathing; and fast. But how were they to do so without achieving similarly miserable results to the Jagan fiasco? The DNA analysis before him now provided the answer.

All evidence suggested that the facility was intended to create an elite mutant team. But for whom and what purpose exactly? Those were questions for which they had yet found answers. The Professor folded his hands before him, leaning his elbows on the mainframe's council thinking silently for a few moments. A blip suddenly appeared on Cerebro's map, indicating the presence of a mutant signature.

The Professor zoned in on its origin as Beast came up beside him, and the two were surprised to see the signature coming in the vicinity of ruined facility Kurt and the others had escaped from. The X-men had agreed to continue to keep the area under Cerebro's surveillance sometime after Kurt's return, but had not expected to find anything. The signature would fade in and out rapidly, never reappearing much farther then a one or two mile radius from the ruins. The two men looked at each other as if to confirm that they were both indeed seeing the blip on the map, before facing the mainframe once more.

"Perhaps," the Professor began cautiously, "We should plan a trip back to the facility ruins."

"Hmm," Hank nodded.

* * *

"Alouette, gentil alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai!" Cambrant sang loudly and animatedly as she and the young man following her picked their way through the dense and ancient woods of the Rocky Mountains.

"Je te plumerai la tête! Je te plumerai la tête!"

The old French nursery rhyme was beginning to grate on Fuhen's nerves, as he sullenly watched the raven haired girl mimicking the motions of feather plucking from her head. He wondered if she realized just how ridiculous she looked.

"Et la tête! Et la tête! Alouette! Alouette!"

Now she bent her arms at the elbows bringing her hands close to her shoulders and flapping them like bird's wings. Fuhen felt his left eye twitch.

"Ohhhhhhhh!!!" Cambrant took in a deep breath in preparation for the next chorus, and Fuhen couldn't take it anymore.

"Would you _shut up_," he grated between clenched jaws, trying to stop the tick in his eye.

"Aww, what is ze matter? Don't you like my singing?" she cooed innocently.

Fuhen didn't deign to answer her question with more then a flat glare.

"Tsk, tsk!" the girl clicked her tongue, waving her finger as if to a naughty child, "Zat is too bad!!"

Fuhen braced himself.

"OHHHHH!!!" and Cambrant continued louder than before, "Alouette, gentil alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai!"

Fuhen tried to think happy thoughts in an attempt to keep himself from strangling the French girl and using his power to neutralize her vocal cords permanently.

* * *

"And zis magnificent beauty is from Kyoumu and me," Kurt was declaring proudly as he gestured towards a white rose bush beside Anastasia's bed. The three visitors had been telling Anastasia about the other kids at the institute as they pointed out the get well gifts they had left for her.

"Bunch 'a show-offs," Rogue mumbled.

"Hey! Ve didn't just rip a rosebush out of ze garden and tow it in here!" Kurt replied, noticing Rogue's lips twitch slightly into a smile at that mental image, before continuing his defense, "It just _grew_!"

And indeed it had, from the single white rose the boys had brought in nearly two months ago. Anastasia looked at the beautiful flowers in full bloom appreciatively, turning to grace Kurt with a shy thankful smile, and placing a kiss on top of little Kyou's head. The child grinned up at her with a small blush on his cheeks, before hiding his face in her stomach and snuggling closer.

"Hey Kyou?" Kurt said warningly, "Don't go to sleep, okay? If you start feeling too tired let us know, ja?"

A muffled 'hai,' was there only response before Kyoumu turned his face to the side, shifting to lay his head in the girl's lap and stretch out on the bed. The dark circles and bags under his eyes were visible even through the curtain of long bangs. The child was exhausted, but could not sleep. He did however sometimes manage to space off every few days, that being the only form of repose he could achieve without actually shutting his eyes. And after the excitement of visiting his reawakened cellmate, he was further wiped out.

Anastasia looked confused at Kurt's warning, then worriedly at the little boy in her lap. She realized belatedly how bedraggled he looked, even months after their escape. He only ever looked like this when Neutral . . . She suddenly gasped loudly.

Kurt startled when his friend gasped suddenly and looked at him with frightened eyes. She reached out for him, and he automatically gave her his hand so she could communicate her thoughts.

Anastasia's mind whirled; she remembered the day of their escape, how Kurt had teleported them. How he dragged them under that tree to cover them from the harsh rain; she remembered trying to ask the question she was signing into his fuzzy palm in that instant. But her mind rebelled at the answer she remembered having received, and she hoped beyond hope that this time around it would be different. She waited anxiously for his answer, but he would not meet her eyes, staring dully at the hand she still held in hers.

"Nein, Kleine Blume," Kurt said slowly and seriously, without looking up, "He didn't make it out." _(No, Little Flower)_

Rogue watched the exchange awkwardly from her chair, not sure what the girl was communicating until she heard Kurt's answer. She felt even more out of place when the little boy who had gone quiet, sniffled before emitting a tired whine and raising his little hand to his eyes as he started to cry. The green girl quickly enfolded the suffering child in her arms, her long hair tumbling down around her face and the boy in her arms like a curtain trying to veil their pain. She quietly got up from her chair, placing a gloved hand on Kurt's shoulder as she slipped past him.

"Why don't I leave y'all alone for a while?" she suggested softly, "Don't flood the place, alright?"

Kurt nodded in response, and smiled a bit at Rogue's way of expressing her concern. He took in the chair Rogue had vacated, shifting it closer to the bed and settling into it in his unusual way. He placed a comforting tridactyl hand on the girl's shoulder, before quietly launching into an explanation of Kyoumu's woes, providing the details the Professor had wisely decided to omit in his talk with her about the institute's happenings while she lay unconscious. His golden eyes had looked into hers as he started out, but as those brown orbs filled with sorrow and guilt, Kurt had to look away. He looked up again sharply, however, when her breath hitched and she began to cry along with the miserable little boy in her lap.

"Ack! Bitte Kleine Blume," the blue boy pleaded, "Hey, I have an idea. Let's get out of here for a while, ja? I know the perfect place." _(Please)_

She nodded silently, wiping at her eyes as Kurt wrapped his arms securely around the both of them. Suddenly a loud bamf resounded in the infirmary and the three young mutants vanished in a cloud of sulfur and brimstone.

* * *

Fuhen poked absently at the campfire, waiting for the fish he had spent all afternoon catching to cook. Up above him, high in the trees, he could hear the sounds of Cambrant's portal making. He hadn't the faintest idea what she was up to and couldn't care less. The girl was acting more deranged than he had ever witnessed before in the three and a half years he had been detained with her; and thinking of her detainment suddenly brought about many unanswered questions.

Why was she even imprisoned along with them? She was the commander's daughter, wasn't she? What were they doing camping out in the vicinity of the old Lab's ruins? Why was she even helping him? Who's side exactly was she on?

He was thoroughly startled out of his train of thought when the air before him ripped open in a flash of indigo and half of Cambrant's body thrust forth suddenly. He stumbled back into a heap as she shoved her hands toward his face.

"Fuhen! Regardes ce que j'ai trouvé!!" she said excitedly, opening her hands to show him the cluster of small bird eggs they cradled. _(Look what I've found!!)_

"Don't call me that!" he snapped, angrily slapping her hands away and causing one of the eggs to fall on the ground with a crack, "It's Neutral to you, remember it!"

Cambrant's enthusiasm quickly extinguished at the young man's fierce retort, turning instead to an exaggerated despondence.

"Mais, mon ami—" she began with a not quite genuine pout, but was cut off. _(But_ _my friend—)_

"Friends don't reave friends to die," Fuhen replied, acid dripping from his words, "So spare me the false camaraderie."

His statement made Cambrant drop the pretense of amity altogether, and she frowned unhappily at him. Sighing dramatically, she ignored his protests as she climbed the rest of the way out of her portal, forcing him to crab walk back from the fire and her open portal. It zipped shut loudly and disappeared with a flash as she made it all the way through, and plopped down in the spot the disgruntled redhead had been sitting.

The raven haired girl set the rest of the eggs down beside her, and promptly grabbed one of the fish barbed on a long stick. Propped into the crack between two of the rocks circling the campfire, it could be cooked by the heat of the fire, without the effort of holding it up as one would toast a marshmallow. She sometimes forgot how resourceful the redhead could be. It certainly gave her a lot of headaches the first few times she was sent to retrieve him and his brother as they attempted escape.

"Eh bien," she said to the olive-skinned man as he approached the fire once more, smiling and patting the ground next to her, "Bon appetit, Rouge!" _(Well then . . .Red)_

Fuhen snatched the two fish propped beside her and ignored her friendly gesture in favor of taking a seat against the trunk of a nearby tree.

Cambrant eyed him in a bored fashion, "Hmph . . . killjoy."

* * *

A cool breeze swept through the gardens of the Xavier Institute for the Gifted, keeping the hot summer evening from becoming unbearable. The sun was still hours above the horizon, just beginning to elongate the shadows as it made its descent. Under the shade of a willow tree sat three young mutants, enjoying the calm of the evening as they watched a Mother duck and her brace of duckling follow her across the surface of the water in the small pond nearby.

Kurt looked over at his two companions, both having calmed considerably from their breakdowns in the infirmary. Kyoumu for his part was still sniffling piteously once in a while, but at least he was no longer bawling. Anastasia on the other hand, looked serene, basking it seemed in the nature surrounding them; although her eyes were a bit puffy, and probably red. He couldn't really see them, as the girl was looking down towards the golden head of the boy in her lap; petting it gently in a soothing maternal gesture.

They weren't speaking, had barely spoken in fact since he'd ported them out here. Ana, it seemed had been awed by the garden as soon as they bamfed into it. Kyoumu had still been making a fuss, but calmed slowly as he heard the alarmed quacking of the ducks from the pond at their sudden appearance. He asked to be put down and slowly approached the pond trying to get a closer look, but the mallard and her ducklings only shied away from the shore as he approached. He tried to follow them, walking almost all the way around the small pond in his efforts but the ducks studiously avoided him; and soon the child began to whimper again.

At that point Anastasia motioned to Kurt her desire to approach as well, and with his help she made her way on atrophied limbs to Kyoumu's side. She kneeled on the plush grass beside the child, placing a hand over a small patch and pressing down. As she slowly lifted her hand up, following closely after it was a miniature stalk of barley. Kyoumu squeaked in excitement, grabbing a grain cluster and getting up quickly with the intent to feed it to the ducks. But Ana stopped him gently, making a negative sound in the back of her throat, and shaking her head with a gentle smile. She took the cluster from him and set it on the ground beside the stalk, then simply turned to look at the ducks in the pond and waited. Kyoumu fidgeted a bit, pouting but taking a seat beside the kneeling girl, and sharing a skeptic look with Kurt, who merely shrugged.

Ten patient minutes of waiting later, the mallard and her ducklings climbed ashore and slowly approached the trio quacking nervously. Kurt couldn't help but grin as the ducks began to feed right in front of them; biting back a laugh at the quiet squeals Kyoumu was trying to stifle with his little hands over his mouth. He turned to Anastasia and returned her gentle smile with a wider grin, before returning his gaze to the ducklings cheeping around them.

Soon the barley was gone, and the birds waddled back to the pond. The trio then moved into the shade provided by the full canopy of a large willow near the pond's edge. They settled against the wide girth of the old trunk, and had simply been listened to the sounds and taking in the sights of the fast approaching summer for the last hour when their tranquility was suddenly interrupted by a gruff voice.

"Hey, elf!" the Wolverine called as he approached the tree, "I got half a mind to put ya straight in the danger room for a nice long session, now that Hank's cleared ya for 'strenuous activity.' Especially since ya disappeared from the infirmary with two of his patients without so much as a word. Ya trying to give us all high blood pressure?"

"But Herr Logan," Kurt couldn't help but tease, "You can't get high blood pressure."

"Don't get smart elf," he griped, but his mouth twitched a bit at the joke. He was secretly glad the fuzzy kid was feeling well enough to joke again.

"Sorry, sorry! Hey, you haven't formerly met mein other friend. Zis is Anastasia. Ana zis is the wild guy I vas always telling you about," Kurt turned and gestured to the green girl at his side. Logan felt his brow twitch in irritation but politely tipped his hat at the shy girl; noticing and bowing slightly to the tired wave Kyoumu gave him from where he lay curled around the girl's lap.

"Listen elf, me, Storm, and Beast are heading off on a mission tonight," he looked levelly into the curious golden eyes as they processed that information.

"Where to?" Kurt asked, already suspecting the answer.

"That place," Logan replied, knowing by the way the trio tensed, that he needn't clarify more than that, "Cerebro's been picking up an intermittent mutant sig in that area all day. Looks kinda like how your sig blinks in and out when ya port. Which could possibly be—"

"Cambrant," Kurt finished, a slight queasy feeling settling in his stomach at her memory, "And if she's zere?"

"Who knows," there was an edge to Logan's seemingly nonchalant tone, "Maybe she'll feel like talking."

Kurt stared at Logan for a minute, perceiving the unvoiced threat of violence towards the infamous raven-haired mutant, which he had heard tell much about from both Kurt and Kyoumu, for causing his new and old charges so much undue misery. It made the blue-furred teen feel strangely warm.

"Don't vorry about us. Anastasia is feeling much better, ja?" he aimed the question at her, turning back to Logan when she nodded in confirmation, "Kyou can stay vith us tonight."

With that Wolverine nodded and headed back toward the institute; Kurt watched him go, his mind in a whirl. Cambrant was hanging around the ruins of the lab? For what reason and purpose? He sighed tiredly, memories of that awful day flooding his mind; Kyoumu was whimpering again. Looking at his friends, Kurt could see the small measure of peace they'd gained from moving to the garden was now replaced by the shadow of grief once more; and this time Kurt joined them.

He hadn't been in that awful cellblock for long, but it had been long enough to form a lasting connection with the others held there; however twisted it was with some. Oddly enough, one of those twisted relationships had been with the young man named Fuhen. The young man had often been downright cold to him and was always brutally honest, yet it was not out of malice, but defensiveness. In such volatile living conditions, the redhead was afraid to befriend others when they could be and often were easily killed by the horrible experiments suffered by those on the cellblock. Kurt knew this, not because Fuhen had ever told him directly, but because of the young man's reactions to him his first week there . . .

* * *

_The first week Kurt had arrived, the mutant he learned to call Neutral was almost completely indifferent to him, if not cold, and generally suspicious of his every move. And due the hectic experimentation schedule, Kurt hadn't tried to hold a conversation with any of them until after his fourth day. He had been thrown back into his cell after a healing session that cured his body from the damage wrought by a day of long experiments, but did nothing to calm the aching homesickness he was plagued with. _

_He was surrounded on all sides by other mutants trapped just like him; and although in the shock of his first few days he could only weep silently to himself, now he could no longer stand the isolation. So, instead of climbing up to his dark corner as he had the previous days, he sat down by the bars that his cage shared with the two boys next door. The older boy paid him no mind; he seemed to be sleeping actually, looking quite pale and drained settled against the bars that led to the green girl's cage; crossed arms resting on his bent knees, and head on his forearms. The little one however looked at him curiously from where he laid on his stomach on the cold metal floor, just in front of his brother, two small chunks of metal in his hands, and a few more pieces lying around him. _

_Kurt waved a little, but the boy's only response was to look back down at the pieces of metal. He began moving them around, mumbling quietly to himself in his native tongue; sometimes he'd put one down to pick up another, mumble a few words before switching pieces again. The furry teen watched intrigued for a while, when it suddenly dawned on him that the small boy was playing, using his imagination and creating toys out of the rusty chunks of metal in his small hands. Golden eyes watched with growing sadness as the little kid's motions suddenly became more exaggerated and his voice rose, making sound effects as he slapped a piece down onto another. The impact caused one of them to slide across the floor and through the bars into Kurt cage. _

_The small blonde gasped in surprised and looked at the piece now out of his reach, then towards Kurt carefully through his bangs. He got up slowly from the floor, sitting back on his haunches and pausing indecisively, but to looking longingly at chunk. Seeing his indecision, picked up the piece and waved it at him a bit, approaching the bars when he saw the child doing so as well. _

"_Arigatou gozaimasu," he said in a language Kurt didn't understand, but could guess the meaning of the phrase in his situation. (Thank you)_

"_Ah, ah!" Kurt said when a little hand reached through the bars for the metal, waving a large blue finger at him in playful admonishment._

_He covered the hand that held the piece with the other, and when he uncovered it was gone. The surprised gasp he got from the boy made him bite back a laugh, and he suddenly understood why Old Mago, the magician at his circus, loved to entertain the crowds. He held up his hands so the little boy could inspect them, and see the chunk was indeed gone._

"_Sugoi onii-san. . . doko ga desu ka?" he asked in an quietly awed voice, bending down to peer around his hands and try to figure out the magic. (Cool mister . . . where is it?)_

_Kurt reached through the bars and paused at the boy's ear as if pulling something out, showing the metal piece as proof before the child's eyes with a small 'ta daa!' The blonde squealed with delighted laughter, taking hold of the piece and running in place slightly in his excitement. _

"_Kyoumu," a soft but firm baritone interrupted the kid's glee, "Ima koko ni kite yo." (Come here now.)_

"_Hai," the boy murmured, sufficiently subdued, and bowed to Kurt quickly before returning to his brother's side. _

_The child mumbled something apologetic sounding to his brother, scratching the back of his head nervously. When his brother motioned the cage next to theirs, he saw the green girl waving a small apple at him with a gentle smile. Where she was getting those, Kurt had no idea, but it apparently didn't matter to the boy as he collected his other pieces of metal and sat in front of the girl on the other side of the bars, giving her half before taking the apple. They started some kind of game as he munched away, now happily distracted from the other two boys; probably what his brother had intended. Kurt finally risked a glance at the redhead in the other cage, meeting a not quite glaring, but not exactly happy pair of ruby colored eyes; he found himself fidgeting slightly._

"_Uhh . . . sorry, about zat," he offered nervously, "I vas just playing around."_

_Those ruby eyes narrowed, "Don't talk to him. It's best if you don't even rook at him. He gets attached easily, and most new test subjects don't rast the first week. We will see what happens if you're still around after that."_

_His tone was none too friendly, and Kurt almost felt offended before he fully processed the statement; and then he felt scared shitless. That was twice already the man before him had slapped him with the brutal truth; obviously not one to sugar coat things._

"_To say such things, are you zat incapable of sympathy?" Kurt realized too late he had actually said that out loud. Crimson brows furrowed under wild bangs of the same rich color, and Kurt tried not to gulp at the dangerous look the man was now giving him._

"_I killed that useress sentiment off years ago," he answered in a frigid tone, almost challengingly. _

"_Years?" Kurt said after a shocked moment of silence, finding himself in need to confirm what that statement had suggested, "You've been here for years?"_

_The older boy's eyes shifted off to the side and he grimaced a bit, as if thinking about the inquiry physically hurt._

"_Yea," he answered eventually, his tone no longer cold but rather weary. _

_Kurt was stunned into silence. He could not fathom being locked in this place for years. He could not, would not do it. Imagining the last few days' samplings of terror stretched over the span of years would drive him insane; and so he refused to think about it. His tail twitched wildly, giving away his agitation until he noticed intrigued red eyes following its movements and forcefully stilled the appendage. The other mutant noticed this and looked up into his faintly glaring golden orbs. _

"_What did you say your name was?" the Japanese mutant asked suddenly._

"_Night— I mean Kurt," he replied after a bit, deciding to give his real name._

"_Ganbatte kudasai, Kurt-san," the redhead said very softly, eyes not meeting Kurt's. (Please hang in there.)_

_Kurt asked him what that meant, but the older boy turned his back to him to watch the game his brother and the green girl were playing, refusing to translate; and so their strange friendship began. _

_

* * *

_

"Something's not right . . . " Wolverine sniffed quietly, leading the Beast and Storm through the dense fog the weather witch had created to conceal them as they searched for the mutant presence that Cerebro had noticed.

"What is it?" Storm asked, gliding just behind the men, her eyes slightly blanched from maintaining the fog around them.

"I got nothing," Wolverine answered, "Not a sound . . . not even a scent."

"Hmm, Cerebro most certainly identified a signature in this area. Perhaps they already left?" The Beast suggested.

"Nah," Wolverine shook his head at the theory, "Even if they had gone, there'd still be a scent trail of where they been."

As they continued moving forward through the fog, he and Beast suddenly stepped into an area completely clear of the cloudy visual obstruction. They turned quickly, confused as to why Storm had cleared away the fog, but the women was barely visible as she floated beyond a wall of white cloud. Beast looked over his shoulder suspiciously, and confirmed that the area they were standing in was indeed clear of fog; yet he looked in front of him and there was the white haired mutant, obscured by the thick substance.

"What's wrong?" she asked a bit bewildered, by there sudden stop and strange looks at her. She drifted forward and found herself dropping to the ground with out warning, crying out in surprise; the rest of the fog around them now cleared as well.

"Storm!" Logan steadied her as she dropped suddenly dropped to the ground, "What is it? You alright?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. I don't know, wait—" she stepped back from Wolverine, and looked up at the clear night sky for several long moments; when her eyes didn't blanch and the weather remained the same she turned to them with an obviously distressed expression.

"I can't use my powers," she said with finality.

Wolverine glanced at both his teammates for a moment before extending his claws, he grunted as the pain was much stronger than usual, and his punctured skin began to bleed.

"Wolverine!" Storm cried worriedly.

"Obviously, none of our powers are working," he said looking at his now mangled hands, that throbbed painfully, "Best I keep these out in case of trouble, eh?"

"I do believe," the Beast surmised, "That we have passed through some kind of barrier. Wolverine if you please, walk a few feet straight ahead, and retract your claws."

The Canadian man did as asked and instantly the wound healed and closed without a trace. He extended them again, then walked towards the others, this time the slits his claws made through his skin stayed healed; but knew if he retracted them again, the blades would reopen the wounds.

"As we can all comprehend, something in this area is preventing the use of our mutations. The question is what?" the blue-furred man inquired.

"Or who?" Wolverine countered, "I can't smell 'em, but I can feel 'em watching us."

"But who could possibly—" Storm began when Wolverine suddenly shouted into the forest around them in Japanese.

"Oooiiii! Kyoumu-kun no oniisan wa desu ka?" Wolverine listened extra carefully for any response, trying to compensate for the loss of his enhanced hearing. (Heeeey! Are you Kyoumu's brother?)

Silence met his inquiry, Wolverine was hard pressed to admit his disappointment to himself. Most nights he spent with the kid, he did nothing but cry or talk about his brother, or more often than not a combination of both. This strange neutral field they were in, was so much like Kyoumu's vivid descriptions of his older brother's powers, that it made his instincts scream at him. But could the man really have survived all these months?

"Who's asking?" the sound of a quiet baritone behind them made the three X-men whirl on their heels.

* * *

The sun had set an hour ago and the moon was just starting to rise, its silver reflection slowly creeping across the dark ponds surface. The trio had yet to move from their spot beneath the willow, each lost in their own thoughts while they basked in the peace of the garden.

Kurt was leaning forward, elbows resting on his bent knees, and his tail curled around him swaying slightly like a cats. Beside him, Anastasia sat against the tree trunk, her legs stretched out before her, hands running softly through Kyou's soft honey colored hair as his head was pillowed in her lap. The little boy was sprawled on his side, sucking on the sleeve of his shirt absently.

It had been quiet for a while; but it was a comfortable silence. Kurt had been doing most of the talking anyway, as his companions either couldn't or didn't have anything to say. After Wolverine's departure, he'd told them a few stories from his circus days like he used to do when they were all in that awful cellblock together, and gotten a few laughs and smiles as he'd hoped. But as the sunset and the fireflies began to glow in the twilight, a quiet calm came over them again.

"Ana-nee, sing me prease," the little boy uttered softly in a tired weary voice, breaking the silence.

After a moment, Anastasia began to hum a slow sweet, yet melancholic melody that Kurt already knew by heart. It was one of the songs she most often hummed to him during his healing sessions. Ever so slowly, a weight that Kurt hadn't known he was carrying began to lift off him. Hearing the familiar tune that had kept him sane during those awful months of torturous experimentation outside in the open and luxurious gardens of the Institute, made him realize more then anything else had in the past couple months the girl had spent comatose, that he could move on; that he was truly and finally _free_.

Ana repeated the soft melody many times over, letting it wash over her suffering cellmates, to help relieve their anguish. And although she did not pause in her song, she realized belatedly, as she watched the fireflies drift around them, skimming over the pond already reflecting the bright light of the stars and moon, that they were no longer prisoners; that for the first time in years, she was surrounded by actual earth, covered in soft green grass and flowers; that she was leaning against an honest to God tree, with real nightingales twittering in the distance. It all felt like a dream.

Kyoumu for his part was fighting off the drowsiness that was constantly wearing at the edges of his consciousness. He was tired, and jittery, and the sweet song Ana was singing to him only made him miss his brother even more. He did not feel the same relief the others did to get out of that place; any place without his brother was a thousand times worse to him than the years they spent sharing a cell. Yet, the sorrowful melody fit his mood so perfectly, that he could not resist its soothing allure, and let it wash over him as his dangerous violet eyes followed the fireflies hovering around them.

He followed the movements of two particular fireflies dancing around each other in a slow circle, turning his head to keep them in his line of sight until they parted ways. His vision, no longer focused on the glowing insects, was then free to notice the silhouette of a man walking toward them down the tree lined path leading to their little abode. He could not see the man properly, as he was bathed in the shadows of the surrounding trees, but there was something strangely familiar about him. He walked through a patch of moonlight, and when the little boy made out a shock of red hair he sat up abruptly; startling Anastasia out of her humming.

"Kyoumu! Vas is it?" Kurt's asked worriedly, moving to steady him, thinking the child might have fallen asleep and was about to go into the horrific seizures accompanying that occurrence.

"Fuhen . . ." the boy whispered in shocked awe, and made to stand up quickly.

But this point Kurt had already grabbed hold of him, convinced that the child was trapped in one of his horrid visions, as calling for his brother's help was always the first sign.

"Iie, hanase yo! Fuhen-nii! Tasukete!!" Kyoumu cried out, nearly sobbing; unknowing that his shouts and desperate struggles to loosen Kurt's grip only served to convince the furred teen that the child was indeed the grips of a nightmare. _(No, let me go I tell you! . . . Help me!)_

Anastasia at first also thought Kyou had slipped into a nightmare, but something was too focused about the child, he wasn't struggling out of terror, but desperation; a desperation to get to something he seemed to be looking in the face. Ana turned to stare in the direction Kyoumu was looking, and gasped in shock and amazement, a slim green hand going up to cover her mouth as she saw a tall olive-skinned, crimson haired young man quickly approaching. She grabbed Kurt's sleeve and pulled frantically.

"Kleine Blume, vas—" he noticed mid-question that the green girl was pointing at something with palpable urgency. He looked up and almost died of fright when he saw what he honestly believed to be the apparition of their deceased cellmate a few feet before the small group.

"Kurt-san, daijoubu desu. Ret him go," that familiar baritone commanded softly and Kurt automatically released the child. _(It's okay.)_

With a heart wrenching sob, Kyoumu dashed straight into waiting arms as his brother kneeled before him, and embraced him fiercely, murmuring comforts to the sobbing child in a shaky voice. Anastasia looked on with a watery smile, until she had to bury her face in her small hands to hide her tears of relief and joy. Though Kurt's initial thought was that he had sighted his first ghost, he quickly realized that this was very real as he watched the tearful reunion of the two brothers. Putting his arm reassuringly around Ana's shoulders when the young girl started to cry as well, for once out of happiness; feeling a bit of a lump in his throat as well, although he knew was grinning like an idiot.

* * *

An indigo spark preceded the loud sound of something tearing, before a portal opened up in the spacious office of the Project RAM commander-in-chief; but the raven-haired man didn't even bother looking up from his desk as a young woman stepped out.

"Report," he barked as he flipped through a file.

"Ze cub 'as been returned to ze den, monsieur," she smiled manically when the ominous man before her frowned deeply at the ridiculous code speech.

"Were any suspicions raised?"

"Non, monsieur. Zey all bought ze story like ze good little idiots zey are."

"Very well, monitor the sleeper's movements carefully. If there's even the slighted sign that he may go AWOL, eliminate M97 immediately. That way, even if M42 proves impossible to recapture, he will learn a lesson in humility," the commander replied as if discussing the morning paper.

"Oui monsieur," Cambrant had a bright smile on her face, and her tone was absolutely neutral, but the hatred burning in her eyes was almost enough to melt the flesh off a face; preferably his.

* * *

**A/N:** A lot of scene changes in this one, more than I've ever done I think. Didn't confuse anyone with it, did I? Well, now you know a bit more about who were in those cells and why. More details on Kurt's true purpose later. Lotsa angsting, sorry. Tell me, what did y'all think bout Cambrant and Neutral's scenes? Probably won't make too much sense now, but will later. Last question: how was that reunion? I'm not completely happy about it, but after rewriting 1500 times, this was the most satisfactory version for me. Lemme know ur opinions of that! So please do review, I wanna hear what ya have to say!! Thanks a bunch for reading. Rice pudding for everybody who reviews!! Toodles!

—_La Loba_


	8. Cold Shoulders

**Disclaimer:** I don't own X-Men: Evolution. I never will. Ever. (WAILS) Anywayz, (lol) I'm not making mulaa offa dis so donna sue me!!

**A/N:** I've been reading a lot of amazing fanfic lately, and totally got inspired to keep going with this chapter. Sequencing this story has been hell. But finally, I seem to have found the right order. Thanks a million for the reviews; I got some really awesome ones. They really inspire me to keep going, so thanks a bunch!!

**Timeline** For a long time this story has just kinda been floating around in my head without any real effort on my part to make a reference to its point in the continuity of the X-evo timeline. After much thought about it, and study of the timeline, I've finally decided on a niche for it. This all takes place sometime after the cauldron incident, after the new arrivals to the institute, before Tabitha joins the Brotherhood, and during the time Mystique is absent. If my plans work out, I can then work in lots of the wonderful plot twists of the actual show. Wish me luck!

– _La Loba_

_Italics_ – flashback

**WARNING**: Likely **OOC**, and steadily becoming **AU**, please forgive. This story in general deals with abuse and has some mildly graphic violence. Thus the rating PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you, or you don't like it, then don't read this story. You have been warned.

* * *

**Sanctum**

By: _La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 8: Cold Shoulders

Nightcrawler dodged a clawed cable that raced his way, and teleported to avoid the beams from a laser blasting above his head. He reappeared several yards ahead, his forward momentum unchanging as he dashed towards his target. He could already see the tips of bone poking out all over Spyke's body in preparation for his attack. Just as he was about to reach his target, Nightcrawler ported once more disorienting the other boy, rematerializing behind him, landing a solid kick to a spot between his shoulders devoid of any dangerous sharp bones.

Spyke cried out in surprised and stumbled forward, but regained his balance and turned to face his opponent, only to meet another cloud of sulfur and brimstone. The soft bamf to his right was the only warning he got before Nightcrawler attacked once more. Spyke was forced to parry a furious series of well-aimed blows that he would consider, if he didn't know the fuzzy elf better, purposely lethal.

Meanwhile on the other side of the danger room, Wolverine was also fiercely attacking the elder of the Japanese brothers. But where Spyke was finding himself hard-pressed to fend off Nightcrawler's advances, Wolverine was finding it next to impossible to break through Neutral's defense. The young man had but to wave a shimmering white arm and Wolverine's claws would retract against his will, leaving him with no other weapons but his bloodied fists; and it was beginning to grate his nerves.

A strangely animalistic growl floated to Wolverine's keen hearing from where the other two X-men were sparring, followed by a strange crackle that reminded him of when fire flickered out of the opening of a furnace. He looked over for a moment to check on them, and his eyes widened as he saw Spyke hastily dodging a well aimed fireball. He quickly signaled a pause to Neutral.

"Hey elf! What'd I say about fire-breathing!" Wolverine scolded firmly.

Nightcrawler ignored his instructor's warning, and sprinted on all fours towards the slightly overwhelmed basketball player at top speed. Spyke brought his bone-prickled arms up defensively as the furred mutant pounced, but he was left coughing in the wake of another sulfur cloud. A moment later Nightcrawler landed heavily on the large head of one of the laser guns high above the Danger Room floor, his momentum knocking it askew at an awkward angle, and breaking it off of its hinges. He began to fall with the gun head, faster and faster as gravity aided their passage. The crash the heavy metal would have made as hit the floor was replaced by the echo of a loud bamf, and Nightcrawler and his metal charge reappeared just above an unsuspecting Spyke; ready to fall upon his fragile figure from five feet above his head with the same momentum as it would from it original 100 foot descent from the Danger Room ceiling.

Spyke cursed in surprised and ducked down, hundreds of bone spikes protruding from his body in an effort to protect him from the inevitable impact of the crushing metal, but instead he heard a feral growl coupled with the screech of metal slicing through metal. When he looked up, his instructor stood before him huffing like an angry wolf, and there were two large slices of metal on either side of them. The dissipating smoke above them indicated Nightcrawler had once again teleported. A bamf resounded in the Danger Room, and the blue mutant appeared in midair a few yards away, and intense look on his face the likes of which Spyke had never seen on the normally carefree teenager before.

"Elf, that's enough!" the Wolverine growled fiercely when he saw his student land gracefully into a fighting stance before them, a slightly manic glint in his eyes; before venturing again, "Elf?"

When teenager's only response was to narrow his eyes and inhale deeply, Logan realized that Nightcrawler was no longer in the here and now, but somewhere dark, dangerous, and torturous, where his life depended on eliminating his opponent without a second thought or a moment's hesitation, lest his own life be in jeopardy. His chest puffed out with air, and he opened his jaw wide to release a flaming torrent upon them, and there wasn't much Wolverine could do except turn around and try to protect Evan from as much of the flames as he could.

The crackling sound of fire-breathing filled the Danger Room, and the hairs at the back of Logan's neck stood on end as the felt the rush of hot, stingy air that would precede the blaze. But instead of searing heat, he felt a sudden gush of cool air, and the warmth of a body standing before him at the same time as a bright flash of white blinded him. He realized they were being protected by Fuhen's shield.

"Nightcrawler! Stand down!" the redhead shouted firmly.

The gushing flames stopped abruptly as Kurt shut his jaw suddenly with a loud click, seeming to snap out of whatever daze he had been in just a moment earlier. His golden eyes blinked several times then widened as if the actions he'd just committed were only now being processed with full reason.

"N-Neutral?" only when the blue-furred teen stammered his codename out, did the redhead see it fit to lower his shield.

As his actions replayed over and over in his mind, and the gravity of what he might have done began to dawn on him, Kurt's breathe quickened, smoke pouring out of him along with his agitated breathes. He began muttering to himself in German, looking down at himself, and wringing shaking hands.

"Meine Gott, was ist . . . was ist mit mir los?" he whispered, choking a bit on the excessive smoke billowing out of him. Flames were starting to lick his lips, and he was well on the path to hyperventilation until he felt a strong hand grab his shoulder and shake him briskly. (My God, what is . . . what is wrong with me?)

"Nightcrawler, snap out of it." Neutral's calm commanding baritone penetrated the fog of his panic, his touch shutting down his internal furnace almost immediately, allowing Kurt to slowly catch his breath without fire licking his lips. He looked guiltily over at Logan and Evan, who were staring at him in shock; Evan was the first to recover.

"Man! What the hell was that!" he cried angrily as he shot up from where he had been crouched on the floor, "Ya almost made toast outta me!"

"Evan, I'm so sorry!" Kurt replied vehemently, stepping towards his friend.

"Whatever, man! You're losing it. Don't bother catching me 'till your head's on straight!" Evan answered gruffly, pushing past the elf on his way out of the Danger Room.

"Evan, vait!" Kurt made to go after the other boy, but was interrupted by Logan.

"Let 'em go elf," Logan instructed sternly, "Let 'im cool off and get over the fact you tried to fry him. Didn't I tell you to layoff the fire breathing?"

As Logan spoke in a barely restrained irate tone, Fuhen watched as Kurt seemed to shrink down more and more as he took the verbal thrashing from the livid man.

"Just because it's your first Danger Session in months doesn't mean your gonna get any slack for breaking the rules," Wolverine continued the scolding.

Kurt's guilty eyes wouldn't leave the floor, his hands wringing anxiously before him, and his tail thrashing agitatedly behind him. Fuhen looked on at the exchange a bit awkwardly, feeling a pang of sympathy for his former cellmate, and irritation at the man's ignorance of the reasons behind Kurt's actions.

"Your're gonna be scrubbing the Black Bird for month, thanks to your little stunt. I can't believe you're still so irresponsible elf! What the hell were ya thinking? Well? What do ya have to say for yourself?" by the time Logan finished, his disappointment and disgust at Kurt's actions were clear in his tone.

"I—I don't know!!" as Kurt shouted his voice broke a bit, and he disappeared from the Danger Room once and for all in another puff of smoke.

"Hey!" Logan called to the cloud, but it was too late, "Damn!"

"Oi!" Fuhen resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the man turned to look at him slightly surprised, obviously having forgotten he was still in the room, "Don't you think you were a bit harsh?"

"Listen bub, don't tell me—"

"Weren't you the one that got experimented on too?" Fuhen asked rather directly, cutting off any response the other man might have had to the inquiry by continuing, "You should know better than anyone, how hard it is to move on."

"What exactly are you talkin' bout, bub?" asked a bit annoyed at having his past brought up by a nearly perfect stranger.

"_They_ used to make us spare rike this all the time. Onry, there were no rules. And you could onry walk away if you were a victor. Rosers didn't have that ruxury," he explained quietly, "Kurt-san rearned that fast, and slipped into that mentarity while sparring. It's the first time in months he doesn't have to fight to the death, isn't it? It's rather natural for him to slip up, I think."

The redhead stated everything with a matter-of-factness that left Logan's head spinning. The elf hadn't spoken to anyone but the professor about the specificities of what had occurred to him while prisoner, but Charles would always let them know about the things Kurt could be sensitive about after his return, so the other instructor's could tread lightly until the boy adjusted to normal life again. The only reason the Professor would have kept something of this magnitude from them was if he hadn't been told about it at all.

"Indeed, this is the first I've heard of this Logan."

The Professor's low grave voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked at the Professor glaring a bit.

"You were thinking rather loudly my friend," the headmaster replied to the unasked question with a hint of a smile, but it quickly vanished as he turned to the redhead Japanese man, "Fuhen, would you mind answering some questions about this matter?"

The young man shook his head and followed the Professor when he turned and wheeled out of the Danger Room.

* * *

Anastasia's right ear flickered at the soft bamf that sounded off in the distance. Her long pointed nymph ears able to pick up sounds and frequencies through the small forest of trees located on the grounds far behind the Institute that were normally lost to the average human hearing. This grove of trees and the gardens were her now habitual abode since being able to walk on her own again.

The mansion was much too crowded a place for her; filled with too many new faces, too much noise, too little light. After having spent years trapped in an underground facility without the privilege of natural light and fresh air, she just couldn't seem to get enough of it. And so she spent most of her days out walking the grounds, and tending to the lovely gardens of the Xavier Institute in solitude, with the occasional X-men or former cellmate for company.

But a long silence had followed the bamf, which meant that Kurt hadn't moved from the spot he rematerialized in. It also meant that he hadn't teleported to get _to_ something, but rather to get _away_ from something, and was most likely seeking some solitude of his own. Anastasia was about to leave the other mutant to himself, but froze when she picked up what she could have sworn were muffled sobs. She stood stock still in the forest, now unsure whether to leave the boy be or seek him out and offer solace.

It wasn't as if it was the first time she caught him crying, and it wouldn't be the first time he cried on her shoulder. She chewed her lip a bit; he had often come back from his lab sessions broken and sobbing, and he hadn't minded her comfort then. She didn't have the heart to just leave the boy alone now, so she turned and approached the quiet sound; beginning to hum a soft soothing tune as she neared him, so as not to catch him unawares.

* * *

Kurt dropped down gracefully onto the thick bough of a tree somewhere behind the institute. He was shaking and his stomach was doing flips, and his mind was still reeling at what he'd done. He couldn't believe he'd attacked Evan and Logan with the serious intent to harm them. He tried to think when he stopped sparring like he was in a friendly Danger Room session with one of his best friends, and started fighting for his survival like he was still in that god awful arena back at the lab. He thought he'd put all that behind him.

At least he'd tried; thinking about what he'd had to do in that arena made him sick to his stomach, and he dry heaved a bit. He leaned back, resting his head against the cool rough bark of the tree. The first few times he'd been forced to fight for his life, he had lost badly. Afterwards his broken body would be taken to a special lab, where his new mutation was induced. Everything had been done without so much as a drop of anesthetic, and remembering those seemingly endless hours of pain, made his body shudder violently.

The terror of facing that pain was what finally gave him the drive to win his first fight. And as a result, his bruised and injured form was dragged back to the cellblock instead of to the terrible lab. But there, although he found relief from his pain, he was consumed by guilt. Guilt that he had caused another being harm out of selfishness, and that he had sentenced them to a terrible death. For surely that was what they experienced. He never saw any of the opponents he defeated ever again; even though he never actually killed any of them; never dealt the final death blow. He thanked God for that. He didn't know if he would have been able to live with himself, or keep his sanity if he had.

But he was out of there now, and had put all that behind him. And had never wanted to speak of it to the X-men, afraid that they would be disgusted with him for the actions he had taken and the cruelties he had committed in that arena. At least he thought he was over it; he guessed old habits were hard to kill. And as he realized his original assessment of his friends' reactions wasn't too far from the truth, his eyes watered and the shame overtook him; curling up, he began to sob into his knees quietly.

He didn't know how long he had been crying before the soothing lilting tune reached his ears, and he looked down to see Anastasia climbing up the tree gracefully toward him. He watched as she made her way toward him, never pausing in her song, even as he scooted over and let her settle on the bough beside him. She reached out slowly and rubbed at the wet fur on his face, before pulling him into a comforting hug. He allowed her once again, as he had a million times before while in lab, to take him in her arms, and he rested his forehead on her petite shoulder; and as she continued to hum and stroke his hair gently Kurt felt a wonderful calm slowly replacing the despair he had been feeling moments ago.

* * *

But a few days after the incident, however, Evan was still avoiding Kurt, and talking to him as little as possible. To make things worse, he must have told some of the younger recruits about it because, unless he was being paranoid, almost all of them seemed to be acting a little on edge around him; something which was steadily sinking Kurt into a depression. As it was, only his former cellmates and his instructors could accompany him in Danger Room sessions.

To top everything off, he was working on assignments most of the days when all his friends, who had recently finished the school year, either went home on vacation, or went out daily to enjoy the summer weather.

"C'mon Kurt, focus. What was the name of the man who brought his troops to slaughter in the battle of Little Bighorn against Chief Sitting Bull ….?" Scott asked, trying to get his blue-furred friend back into studying for his American History make-up exam.

It was decided by the Bayville school board through much persuasion by the Professor, that Kurt would not be held back a year; rather that he would finish the school year and make up all the missed work throughout the summer, allowing him to start next September at the correct grade level. In the meantime, he spent each day with a different teammate, getting tutored in a different subject; Rogue on Monday for math, Jean on Tuesday for literature, Evan on Wednesday for science, Kitty on Thursday for his Electives, and Scott on Friday for history. Although, studying with his best pals could be a lot a fun, like when he and Evan had accidentally created a grand explosion while working on an experiment for Chem last week. But this week's lesson was rather cut and dry, not to mention tense; with Evan still angry at him, it was worse then even Scott's lessons. And when it came to Scott Summers, the fuzzy teenager was less than enthusiastic about the bespectacled mutant's Spartan lesson plans and teaching methods.

"Ahhh . . ." Kurt racked his brain for an answer he knew was in there somewhere, "Colonel Custard?"

"Custer, Kurt. Colonel Custer," Scott corrected him with a sigh.

"Custard, Custer! Close enough! Except one tastes better!" Kurt replied in a bit of a whine.

It was five 'o clock, normally quitting time, and he was stuck memorizing battle details of the Old West with a rather ruthless tutor who showed no mercy or compassion even though it was Friday, and they had been at it for hours. Kurt was just itching for a nice big meal from Burger-Bomb to get his mind off things he rather not think about. His tail twitched in agitation as he sat on the edge of his chair, resting crossed arms on the long table of the Institute's dining room, his right cheek smushed on top of them as he stared out of the floor to ceiling window into the gardens beyond.

He could see two figures in the distance; the first, easily identifiable by the striking white of her long mane, but the other a bit harder to make out unless you were looking for her, as the green tones of her hair and body nearly camflouged with the greenery surrounding the two ladies. Since Kurt revealed it to her, the Garden had become Anastasia's favorite abode. And unless called inside by one of the X-men for another activity or certain purpose, the green girl could, and indeed would spend all day out there, simply helping things grow. Kurt couldn't help a smile as he watched her grow flowers in the beds that Ororo had just prepared for that purpose.

"Kurt! Stop smiling like a lovesick puppy and pay attention to your history lesson!" Scott scolded his best friend, and couldn't help smirking as Kurt's head snapped around to gape at him so fast the older teen thought he might get whiplash.

"Vas are you— I'm not— Oh shut up, Scott!" Kurt flung his pencil at him embarrassed and slightly blushing, thankful that his fur was too dark and thick for it to be truly noticeable.

"Well," Scott said laughing good naturedly, "That got your attention pretty quick."

"Let's just get back to ze cowboys and Indians, ja," Kurt said pulling up the textbook he had pushed aside to lay on the table and flipping through it aimlessly, trying to change the subject; failing to notice it was upside down.

"So you _do_ like her," Scott concluded lifting a brow; he laughed and ducked an eraser this time.

* * *

Kitty Pryde was busy concocting a lethal batter mix for the cupcakes she planned on baking. It was now 5:25pm and Scott and Kurt would finish their history lessons at six 'o clock sharp; she had to hurry if they were going to be done in time so she stirred the contents of the mixing bowl a little faster.

This was her peace offering. She and Kurt hadn't exactly been on the best of terms since she arrived back at the institute a bit over a month ago and had that little confrontation with the evil-eyed kid. She knew that she perhaps overreacted a smidge, but that little monster truly terrified her and she just couldn't seem to accept the little boy as Kurt did. Regardless of that fact, she wanted to fix things between them, but it seemed that every time she tried to approach him, the fuzzy elf was always with the new girl, or with that terror and his older brother. Whenever she tried to broach the subject during their lessons together, he would always change the subject and turn the focus back to his schoolwork, not allowing her to try and make amends. Finally she thought enough was enough and Kurt would either have to accept her Peace cupcakes and forgive her, or come down with food poisoning and have another reason to be angry with her. So here she was mixing away at her hopefully edible cupcake batter, rushing to get the snack done before Kurt and Scott finished with their history lessons.

Picking up the bowl, she tipped it and messily filled two cupcake holders, moving when finished to dump the bowl in the sink of the adjacent counter. But when she turned and suddenly saw the young Asian man, carrying his little brother in one arm, while the other reached into a cabinet above the sink she had been heading toward, she screamed and nearly dropped the metal bowl she held. When the hell had they entered the room? She hadn't heard anything or even sensed their presence at all.

She looked down to firmly catch the bowl that had phased through her grasp, and glanced back up to the red-eyed man holding a plate in the hand that had been in the cabinet, looking at her like she was crazy. The little boy in his arms peeked around the redhead to see what the commotion was about, and Kitty meeped and back away from the pair. She decided to set the bowl down before she dropped it, and risked a glance back at the pair.

Kyo—whatever the kid's name had hidden his face in the older boy's shoulder, mumbling something she couldn't understand. The redhead turned back to her suddenly with a glare that Kitty would dare to call murderous, then replied to whatever his brother said in Japanese. Being in the dark like this while frightened, never boded well with Kitty and she found herself speaking up without thinking.

"Hey, like it's rude to talk in a different language in front of people who don't understand, you know?" she forced herself not to flinch when the elder of the two faced her once more with a rather bored look; as if he'd been through this before, and was sick of dealing with it.

"I was just telling Kyoumu, that it was alright, and not to be afraid of you," he responded in a tone that sounded almost accusing to Kitty.

"Wow, like your English is really good," Kitty said absently.

"Thank you," the sarcasm was so thick in his voice Kitty could cut it with a knife.

She had never really heard him speak before, as she avoided the younger sibling like a plague, and as a result, since the siblings were always together, the older boy as well. She had assumed his English would be as bad as the child's was which was pretty awful, and so was rather surprised to hear his fluency. But then she processed what he had actually said and was truly shocked.

"Wait, what? He's afraid . . . of _me_?"

"He's _terrified_ of you," he used a less caustic tone to answer her this time.

Kitty gaped at what the young man had just revealed to her, but he did not glance her way at all as he casually took some bread out of the pantry, then opened another cabinet to grab a jar of peanut butter, and another of jelly. The whole time, his little brother kept his face hidden in his shoulder, and if Kitty looked close enough, she could see he was trembling just a bit. The redhead performed the task of making a PB & J sandwich one-handed as if he were used to doing so everyday. How could he act so normal after having told Kitty something so shocking?

"But I—Well he—Like that's— Wouldn't it be easier if you just put him down?" she decided to do what she normally did in situations like this, ignore the problem and change the subject; it always worked before.

She watched as he turned to the boy on his shoulder and asked him something in Japanese again; the little boy responded by yelping something that sounded rather negative, and holding on tighter to the older boy. The redhead turned back to his task.

"He's too scared to get down," he replied quietly without looking up, but there was accusation in his tone again.

"Well, like that's ridiculous! I'm not gonna do anything to him. If anyone should be scared here, it's me! I mean he nearly killed me!" Kitty raised her voice at the other mutant.

"Kitty! That's no way to talk to our new teammates," Scott scolded his younger teammate as he and Kurt entered the kitchen just in time to hear her outburst. The girl turned in surprise towards the kitchen door to see Scott and Kurt both frowning deeply at her.

"Forget about it," Fuhen stated casually, as he put away the items he had been using. He grabbed the plate that now held two sandwiches and exited the kitchen without another word.

"Tsk, Kitty! Look, we're all sorry about what happened, but you really need to get over it," Scott scolded as he shook his head, before following after the redhead, "Hey, Fuhen! Hang on a minute!"

That left Kitty to face an obviously disappointed Kurt, which only fueled her anger.

"Like spare me the lectures, I had enough of them from like everybody, okay! And don't like gimme that look! You just don't understand what it's like!" she cried, forgetting momentarily about her original goal to gain reconciliation through cupcakes only a few minutes ago.

"Kitty, are you serious? You think I don't know vas it's like?" Kurt asked her incredulously as he approached her.

"Well, why else would you like be taking their side over mine?! I thought we were friends Kurt! What happened to that?" she asked him pleadingly.

"Zis happened, Kitty. You started acting like a girl I don't know, and don't vant to know. It seriously reminds me of your first days here, ven you couldn't stand the sight of me," Kurt said quietly.

"That's different. _You_ didn't hurt me, and like besides I was totally stupid back then!" she complained.

"Vell, it seems to me like you reverted back to your totally stupid self," Kurt countered with more bite then he had meant to use, and instantly regretted it when he saw Kitty freeze and her eyes begin to water.

"Oh well, if like that's how you feel then . . . then I guess I should just leave you and your new friends alone then," she hated how shaky her voice had sounded, and to hide her glassy eyes, she turned abruptly, snatching the cupcake molds and heading over to the sink with them to dump them out. Kurt hadn't noticed the molds until Kitty took hold of them, and when he saw her heading to the sink with them he quickly stopped her.

"Hey vait a minute, vas is all zis?" he inquired pointing to the molds and the mess on the counter.

"I was like making you cupcakes for when you finished studying for history, but just forget it now," she replied despondently.

"Nein, nein! We can't let zis food go to vaste. C'mon let's make them," he suggested, gently prying the molds out of her grip.

"Well," Kitty pretended to be indecisive, but she knew this was Kurt's way of apologizing for hurting her feelings just now, "Okay, yea. Let's make 'em."

"Fine, tell me vas to do Fräulein, I'll be your sous chef to command for zis cooking venture," he grinned at her. Kitty smiled back, feeling like it was old times before Kurt had been captured.

"Alright mister! I like already preheated the oven so all we have to is stick 'em in there for like fifteen minutes," she headed over to the appliance and opened the door for him to slide the molds in before she shut it. The teens then headed over to the table to wait for the cupcakes to bake.

"You know . . ." Kurt started after a few moments of not quite comfortable silence, "Ze first time I met Kyoumu, I looked in his eyes by accident . . . and he gave me a vision, zat if I'm truly honest vith myself, still gives me nightmares."

Kitty stared at him a bit surprised; somewhere in the back of her mind she figured that with so much contact with the boy, he had to have fallen under the spell of those eyes at least once. But since he had never spoken of it, she was content to keep pretending like he didn't understand.

"What did you see?" she said slowly, almost afraid to know.

"You guys, ze X-men, all of you . . . dying," he replied very quietly after a moment.

Kitty stared in shock, feeling her own terrifying vision pale in comparison. Although losing control of her ability, and phasing all the way through the floor and the earth, down until she reached the fatal and fiery depths of the planet core to meet a literally blazing death was gruesome, it was a personal fear. She could not imagine witnessing all their friends, their family die deaths that were probably as gruesome as the one in her own vision or worse. For several minutes she could only stare at the blue boy seated across from her; although he would not meet her gaze, looking instead absently out the kitchen window.

"I'm sorry Kurt. I didn't know. But like how can you stand to be near him after he made you see something like that?" she inquired finally.

"I have to admit," Kurt said scratching at the table, "I'm always a bit scared of meeting his eyes again. But, if you get to know him Kitty, he's really a good kid. . . . You know, I vas only trapped zere for a few months, but Kyoumu . . . he'd already been in that awful place for five years. _Five years_, Keety. Neither one of us can ever hope to imagine vas he suffered zere. And as much as he makes others suffer vith his power, he suffers at least ten times more."

"What do you mean?" Kitty was honestly surprised to hear that the little boy had been in that place for so long; she hadn't known it was that bad. And what was Kurt talking about, saying he suffered the most from his own powers?

"Ze experiments those bastards did on him, made it so if he ever goes to sleep, for even a second, he gets trapped in a vision just like ven ve look at his eyes; only our visions end, and his won't," he concluded, looking up at Kitty finally, "Don't you see Kitty? Zat's why me and the instructors pay so much attention to him. Zat's why I can't hold a grudge against him, because he knows better zan anyone else how terrible his own power is."

Kitty stared at Kurt in obvious shock. Ever since looking into those slitted violet eyes, she had been so adverse to hearing or discussing anything about the little boy, that she hadn't known anything about his real situation. Now that she knew, she was sincerely repentant, and her eyes told the blue teen as much.

"Kurt, like I really had no idea."

"Vell, now you do," Kurt replied solemnly, then sniffed the air slightly, "Is something burning?"

"The cupcakes!"

* * *

The redhead must've really wished to get away from anymore of the X-men's company as he was out of the Scott's sight by the time the young leader exited the kitchen. He had seen the other teen turn left, so he headed down the long corridor in that direction. Now that he thought about it, one of the lesser used rec rooms was down this hall; it had become Kyoumu's frequent abode during his long sleepless nights, along with whoever was chaperoning him.

At the beginning, he and Jean would often relieve their instructors from the long nights spent with the suffering child at least once during weekends, when they could afford to lose a night of sleep. But as time went by and Kyou became more unstable, the professor decided it was best Kyou spend his sleepless nights with one of the adults. But even after that, Scott tried to find time to spend with the little blonde once in a while to distract him if a little from his misery.

He reached the room and peered inside through the open door to see the brothers sitting on one of the plush couches playing with a deck of cards, a pile of sweets on neutral ground between them. It was a game he remembered having taught Kyoumu himself; the little blonde turned out to be a fierce Spit opponent, especially when on a caffeine high. As it was, Scott couldn't help but chuckle as the older boy grumbled in irritation when his younger sibling beat him to the smaller pile at the end of what appeared to be the first round.

"You know," he said conversationally entering the room as the brothers looked up at him, "When I taught him to play, I didn't know I was creating a monster. I don't think he's lost at all once he got the hang of it; so I hope you didn't bet anything too valuable."

"Hiyo Scott-san!" Kyoumu called cheerfully, more cheerfully than the teen ever recalled having heard the young boy.

"Hey Kyoumu, you're looking much better," he replied honestly, before turning to the older boy, "I guess that's your influence, huh?"

The auburn-haired young man didn't answer in favor of looking down at the cards, scratching the back of his head lightly. Scott recognized it as one Kyou's nervous gestures, and if he didn't know better he'd say the young man was slightly embarrassed.

"You come to with us pray?" Kyoumu asked hopefully. He liked Scott, the young man was always nice to him, and didn't shun him like many of the others had when things started going down hill for him.

"You come to _play with us_," Fuhen corrected his brother's word order absently, lightly shoving the little boy's forehead with a finger when he had stuck his tongue out at the correction.

"Well, actually," Scott began more seriously, "I just wanted to apologize."

"_You _didn't do anything," Fuhen replied a little too sharply, shuffling his cards and refusing to look at the other boy.

"Well, not for me, for Kitty," Scott clarified, noticing the other's clear agitation at the topic, "She's my teammate, and I can't help but feel responsible when something like this happens. Look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea and think that we're all the way she's acting right now."

"So . . . everyone just happens to find some where else to be whenever Kyoumu and I walk into a room?" he answered sarcastically, arranging his cards for another round of spit.

"Well . . . " Scott hesitated, not really knowing how to answer that, since it was technically the truth; watching as the other teen angrily arrange his cards.

"Is okay, Niisan," Kyoumu said softly, placing small pale placating hand on an olive-skinned forearm. (Brother)

"Iie! It's not, stop thinking rike that," he told the younger boy firmly, looking him straight in those dangerous eyes trying to impress his statement on the child in any way possible. (No!)

"You're right, on both counts," Scott agreed, "But it's just . . . they're not bad kids, you know? They're just scared. But now that Kyou's powers are under control, I'm sure they'll come around."

"Whatever," he replied trying to sound nonchalant, then addressed his brother, "Hajimete yo." (Start already.)

"Chotto matte!" the little one replied in a reprimanding tone. It amused Scott how to see this completely new side to the child. (Wait a minute!)

Gone was the frightened wretched little being he met on the Blackbird all those months ago. This little boy was cheerful and feisty, and where he could still act painfully shy and respectful of strangers, he was a typical little brother around Fuhen, if not an utterly spoiled brat; yet strangely obedient and adoring of the older boy all at the same time. It was a strange sight to behold after his mind equated Kyoumu as a synonym for miserable in the past few months. As these thoughts ran through his head, the boys on the couch argued quickly in Japanese until Kyoumu cheered abruptly.

"Yatta!" he shouted gleefully, before turning to the bespectacled teen, "Scott-san show Fuhen-nii that game, prease! Remember, the one with Jean-san we prayed?" (Yea!)

"Uh . . . sure," that was a bit unexpected, but Scott found he couldn't decline when the pair moved from the couch to sit at the nearby table.

"So . . . what's this game?" Fuhen asked when the other teen sat at the table; but Kyoumu beat him to the answer.

"Buru shit!!" he squealed delightedly, waving his hands in an arc above his head.

Scott couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the dark look the older brother was giving him.

* * *

"Anastasia this all looks marvelous. I don't think the grounds have ever looked so green and vibrant," Ororo complimented the young girl on her work sculpting the landscape around the institute.

The weather witch smiled dotingly as shy brown eyes glanced up at her before turning quickly back to the work at hand. The sun would start to set within the hour, so Ororo put away her gardening tools in the green house nearby before returning to the girl's side.

"Ana, I have to go order tonight's pizza delivery, would you like to stay here a bit longer?" she asked her, and almost went to pat her head kindly when the girl nodded as expected, but she managed to turn it into a slightly awkward parting wave instead, before she headed towards the Institute.

Anastasia was then left alone in the garden to do as she pleased, so she set about further decorating the flowerbeds they had been arranging. She passed her hands gently over the fresh soil around the flowers she had grown previously and adding small accent plants and flowers to compliment the main attraction. But even though the white-haired women had left, she still was not alone in the garden.

A figure moved in the shadows of the trees behind her, slinking low across the grass, making its way stealthily up behind her. Just as the shape tensed and lifted off the ground to pounce on small green girl, she flicked her wrist and a vine shot up from the grass, tying itself to a furry ankle; interrupting what would have been a graceful jump and making Nightcrawler sprawl gracelessly on the grass just short of the target he was trying to scare the daylights out of. Kurt spit out bits of grass as he lifted his head from the ground to pout at Anastasia who was giggling mirthfully at him.

"How did you know?" he whined, he had even made sure to port upwind so the scent of his teleportation wouldn't give him away.

Ana was still giggling as she signed her answer into Kurt's palm. When he stared at her incredulously for a moment, she laughed harder.

"Ze plants told you?" He glared at the grass he was lying on, before seething in jest, "Traitor!"

He smiled as Anastasia covered her mouth with her small hands, laughing out loud without reserve, and even joined her for a bit.

"Listen, Fridays everyone gets together for pizza and a movie. I thought you might vant to come, ja? Ve can find Fuhen and drag him and Kyou along too. Vas do you say?" Kurt added his best puppy-eyed face as a security measure.

Anastasia was painfully shy, and he wasn't sure he could convince her to leave the peace of the garden for a crowded room of mostly rowdy teenaged strangers. But the girl merely gave him a confused look, signing a question into Kurt's hand that had him staring at her in shock for several moments. He snapped out of it when she looked away uncomfortably, guessing her question had been a stupid one.

"You . . . you don't know vas pizza is?" Kurt asked slowly. He couldn't help but think about what that small detail entailed about the girl's obviously deprived life.

She wrung her hands in a nervous gesture and shook her head without looking up.

"It's ze best food ever invented! It's made vith bread you know," he explained excitedly and when she looked up in surprise, Kurt laughed slightly at the excitement he saw in her widened eyes at the mention of bread, "Now it's decided. You're coming and you're going to try pizza!"

With that firm decision made, he took hold of her hand and pulled them towards the institute.

"Let's find Fuhen and Kyou. We'll commemorate your first pizza experience together," he flashed her a quick fanged smile over his shoulder and thankfully turned back around before her face colored a darker green than usual.

* * *

Kitty watched from the where she still sat at the table, picking absently at a mostly burned cupcake, as Kurt tried and failed to sneak up on the young green girl so recently out of her coma. A week ago, the scene would have made her a jealous rage, and although she could still feel the ugly green monster simmering deep within, it wasn't clouding her thoughts anymore.

In the three weeks since the girl had woken up, Kitty had discovered several things. First off, the girl was mute; and although she could communicate through a type of sign language, it wasn't the standard ASL. And so no one but three boys whom she had been imprisoned with could interpret for her. Said boys were in the process of helping Beast catalogue the idiosyncrasies of the sign system in order for the instructors to be able to communicate fully with their new student, as well as teach any of the other students who were willing to learn it.

The girl was also painfully shy, if not downright strange. She never looked anyone in the eye for longer than a second or two. Her face was ever a mask of wariness to everyone except her three former cellmates. She didn't like to be touched at all; and would only willingly permit it or initiate it with the brothers and Kurt. Her schedule since awakening was consistent and particular; she'd done the same thing in the same exact order everyday for the last three weeks.

Her diet was another peculiarity. She seemed to have what could be considered an unhealthy obsession with bread; she ate it by the pound, which was impressive for such a tiny girl. Ororo had even taken to putting two extra bread baskets on the table at meal times just to make sure there was enough for the rest of the X-men after Anastasia had had her fill.

As it was, meal times the first few days led to much staring, for several reasons. Anastasia had a very peculiar way of maneuvering her utensils, and holding her cups, or picking up her bread; she even sat strangely at the table. Granted the teenage mutants of the Xavier Institute for the Gifted were not poster children for table etiquette, but still.

Her last if not so strange habit considering the nature of her powers, was her obsession with the Institute grounds and gardens. The landscape was well on its way to being completely remodeled by the young girl; and if she was allowed to, she'd spend all day making things grow until the Institute found itself in the middle of a forest. As it was, she spent most of her day wandering the gardens, and would only leave them begrudgingly at sundown when it was time for supper, after much persuasion from Kurt, or the siblings.

Mr. McCoy had said she probably had a mild form of autism, and as such the X-men would simply have to get use to her peculiar behaviors, and shy if slightly anti-social ways. It seemed to Kitty, that all the mutants that came from the awful place Kurt had been had some sort of severe socially debilitating problem.

She knew the younger of the siblings' problem all too well, but the older boy was a bit of an enigma. He was very sweet and caring towards the little blonde terror, and fiercely overprotective; yet he was cold and callous, and extremely guarded and often suspicious of everyone else around him. Of course, he and his brother, Kitty had just learned not to long ago from Kurt, had been locked up in that place for years, so perhaps his constant suspicion could be forgiven.

She sighed, turning away from the window and the pair headed inside the building. She wanted to talk to the Professor; if anyone could help her get over this fear and rejection of the little boy, he could. Although she was quite content to continue avoiding him, she knew her friendship with Kurt would suffer for it. So she exited the kitchen and proceeded to the headmaster's office.

* * *

"Bull shit, otouto," Fuhen said with a smirk to Kyoumu as he reached out to flip over the two cards he just claimed to be aces. (_Little brother_)

"C-chotto matte!" the little one cried out in surprised dismay, but his cards were turned over to reveal a jack and queen. Fuhen and Scott chuckled as Kyou whined loudly and took the pack pouting. _(Wait a minute!)_

"You need a better poker face Kyoumu, or else, maybe some glasses to hide that nervous expression of yours," Scott said absently as he took his turn, and laid down a two, then looked at Fuhen to see what he'd claim this turn. The redhead stared at his cards for a full minute before suddenly looking straight at the X-men's leader.

"What did you say?" Fuhen asked, his brow furrowed in a way that made it hard for Scott to determine if he was suddenly angry or confused.

"About the poker face? I sa—" Scott was interrupted by the creak of the door opening and a loud German-accented voice.

"Good evening, mein freunds!" Kurt greeted enthusiastically as he entered the room, Ana walking in much more meekly behind him.

"Ana-chan!" Kyoumu sing-songed the girl's name with a grin and padded the floor next to him inviting her to sit next to him. Fuhen also smiled warmly at the girl and nodded to Kurt in greeting.

"Hey, Kurt. Look who you've managed drag out of the garden. Hi, Anastasia," Scott greeted the two before gesturing towards the cards, "Would ya like to join us in a friendly game of lies and deceit?"

"Ah, bull shit? Ja! Ve have some time before ze pizza arrives," the furry teen took a seat between Fuhen and Scott, "You know how to play Ana?"

The girl looked down at her lap and shook her head.

"It's easy, Ana-chan. We teach you!" Kyoumu assured, handing his cards to Scott so he could shuffle the pack for a new game.

Twenty minutes later, the four teens and the little boy were jealously guarding their cards as they took turns discarding cards and making bluffs.

"Two fours," Fuhen stated in a perfect monotone.

"One five," Kyou shifted absently.

They all looked up from their cards to see Ana's move. The green girl took out three cards and set them on the pile. Putting her other cards face down on the floor briefly, she first held up three fingers in her right hand. And as she signaled the next number, Scott noticed something odd, that he had never realized before. Anastasia held up all the fingers of her right hand once again, and instead of counting the usual five, Scott only saw a thumb and three fingers, much like a cartoon character's hands. He saw her lift her left hand next to her right, and watched as she folded her thumb over her pinky, and left only her index and what would be, due to the lack of a ring finger, quite literally be her middle finger. A total of six fingers between two hands.

"Matte, matte! That was bull shit, Ana-chan!" the redhead argued, and looked at her pointedly. _(Wait, wait!)_

Ana glanced at the pile then back at Fuhen, then shifted her eyes to the side and gave a little shrug. If Scott didn't know any better he would have thought it was a challenge.

"Alright, Jou-chan. I didn't want to do this but . . ." Fuhen trailed off as he flipped over her cards and revealed precisely three sixes. He glanced up at Ana, who was giggling behind her cards. _(Missy)_

"How can that be? If I have a six, and earlier Kyoumu put one down . . . Usotsuki!" he turned and exclaimed at Kyoumu who dissolved into a peal of giggles. _(Liar!)_

"Sorry, Fuhen, but you can't call BS on someone for a previous turn!" Kurt chuckled, as Kyoumu cheered and held up a little fist towards Ana, who bumped it with her own.

Fuhen grumbled in Japanese as he took the pile and glared first at his brother then, at Ana, who hid behind her face with her cards again, but her eyes were crinkled in mirth. It was honestly the first time Scott had seen the three new additions to his team acting like a bunch of normal kids.

"What was that I said about you needing a better poker face, Kyou?" he asked with a smile, as he set down two cards, "Two sevens."

Kurt looked at the three cards he had left, none of which everyone knew full well were eights. But as there was no pile to take, thanks to Fuhen's false call, he called himself out.

"I'm not even going to bother BSing this one guys, pass!"

"Alright, two nines—" Fuhen was saying when they heard someone clear their throat at the door. The group looked over to see Evan standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Evan! Join us for a friendly game of bull shit?" Kurt smiled wide, and waved the cards he held over his head so Evan could see them.

"Maybe later," Evan said in a tone that clearly indicated otherwise, "Look, Auntie O sent me to tell ya guys that the pizza's here."

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving an awkward silence behind him, and an unhappy Kurt.

"Man . . . How hard is it to get a guy to forgive you for almost killing him?" Kurt joked awkwardly, but in reality he wished someone would give him the answer; but before things could get anymore uncomfortable he changed the subject and put on his jester's mask, "Alright Ana! Time to try out pizza! Hmm . . . hey, Fuhen? Do zey have pizza in Japan?"

Fuhen gave him a measured look which clearly said 'Duh!'

"Sorry, stupid question! Vell, how vould I know anyway?" Kurt shrugged at him.

Fuhen just sighed dismissively and rolled his eyes, passing his and Kyoumu's cards to Scott. The younger teen took them and placed them back into their box, following after the others as they exited the room and made their way to the dining hall. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the way Kurt excitedly lead Anastasia by the hand, as he regaled her with the fabulous history of pizza. As they turned the corner, Scott saw that Fuhen also watching Kurt and Ana; the redhead's eyes seemed to linger on their clasped hands, expression slightly sour. Now, that brought to mind some interesting questions, but before Scott could ponder them any further, they arrived at the dining hall and were greeted with the delicious smell of fresh made pizza.

"Hi guys!" Kurt greeted as he entered the room with Anastasia in tow.

He looked over his shoulder to see her nervously chewing on a knuckle as she stared at the floor. The dining hall at meal times was probably her least favorite room as it was where the largest concentration of people could be found, and she was not a fan of crowds. Kurt was about to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, but she gently extricated it from his grasp, and stepped behind Fuhen's much taller form, as he walked in with Kyoumu; taking instead the child's hand when he offered it. Kurt brushed it off, and turned to his teammates whom had not responded to his enthusiastic greeting, save to shift nervously away from him and the new arrivals. Save one.

"Hiya Blue, yer newbies joining us today?" Tabitha was the first to respond, filling her plate with slices from three different kinds of pizza and sitting down in her usual spot.

"Ja! Anastasia's gonna try out pizza for ze first time and — where is everyone going?" Kurt watched in confusion as many of his teammates, picked up their pizza and left the room; some having the decency to look slightly embarrassed as Kurt called them out on their behavior, but not stopping to explain. Jamie paused in the doorway and fidgeted nervously.

"Well, you know, we got lots of stuff to do for … ah, school! Yea! And uh—" he was saying lamely but was cut off.

"It's summer, ya dolt," Rogue had a habit of name-calling when she was seriously annoyed. Everyone at the institute knew this, especially the newer recruits, and so Jamie laughed nervously, as he edged towards the door.

"Oh … right, well … Bye!" he turned quickly to dash out the door, but missed and knocked into the doorjamb instead, creating a three multiples of himself, who all quickly fled out the dining hall in embarrassment.

Scott watched as his best friend practically deflated at their teammates' cold behavior. He didn't know exactly what went on in that Danger Room session between Evan and Kurt. But whatever had happened, it didn't merit this kind of behavior. And the newcomers from the Laboratory had yet to be accepted by the rest of the X-men, and were also being shunned unfairly. He had just had a great time playing cards with the three. Sure, they were a bit odd, but Scott had seen that they really weren't as different from them as they first seemed. He would have to have a talk with the Professor about this; but first things first.

"So Anastasia, you've never had pizza before, huh? . . . Whatta ya say we start you off with some regular cheese first? That sound good, Kurt?" He addressed the furry teen in who was still staring at the empty doorway, trying to distract him.

"Ja," he answered, still facing the door before turning around, and continuing more enthusiastically, "Then you could try pepperoni!"

"Hey Spooky," Tabitha used the nickname she'd developed for the little blonde, "Ms. O ordered a whole Calamari pie just for you and yer big bro."

"Hontou ni?!" he squealed excitedly, and ran to the stack of pizza boxes almost immediately, "Fuhen, tasukete!" (Really! . . . help me!)

The older Japanese boy was pleasantly surprised to find the box labeled Calamari to contain a pizza drizzled with tender pieces of squid. He hadn't seen a more delicious sight in over five years. Smiling he served himself and his brother and took a seat next to Anastasia, sitting his brother beside him. Not long after, Jean walked in with Kitty and Bobby, and the three joined the small gathering, grabbing some pizza and taking their seats on the other side of the table alongside Tabitha and Rogue.

"Nice to see you here, Kitty," Kurt said to her across the table, and the two shared a secret smile before digging in to their pizza.

Although she felt badly about the way Kurt's other teammates had left, Anastasia would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't glad. The smaller more intimate group made it easier for her to tolerate the company of strangers. They were all encouraging her to try the different kinds of pizza on the table, and their funny stories, and constant but friendly bickering was entertaining to say the least; especially Kurt's. Yet, she couldn't help but notice that although his laughter was the loudest, and his smile was the widest, there was little mirth in his golden eyes.

* * *

**A/N:** Well this took longer than expected, sorry for the delay. Please tell me your thoughts and review, I truly appreciate hearing from you guys. Thanks for reading!

_La Loba_


	9. Making Ground

**Disclaimer:** I don't own X-Men: Evolution. I never will. Ever. (WAILS) Anywayz, (lol) I'm not making mulaa offa dis so donna sue me!!

**A/N:** I've been reading a lot of amazing fanfic lately, and totally got inspired to keep going with this chapter. Sequencing this story has been hell. But finally, I seem to have found the right order. Thanks a million for the reviews; I got some really awesome ones. They really inspire me to keep going, so thanks a bunch!!

**Timeline:** For a long time this story has just kinda been floating around in my head without any real effort on my part to make a reference to its point in the continuity of the X-evo timeline. After much thought about it, and study of the timeline, I've finally decided on a niche for it. This all takes place sometime after the cauldron incident, after the new arrivals to the institute, before Tabitha joins the Brotherhood, and during the time Mystique is absent. If my plans work out, I can then work in lots of the wonderful plot twists of the actual show. Wish me luck!

**Japanese Cultural Notes:**_ Although translations are found at the end of sentences, I didn't want to break the narrative with notes so here's some stuff that will provide a better understanding of the flashback._

_Honshu_ – The largest of the main islands of Japan. In the US it is a common thing to metaphorically compare the size of something with a state. For example: 'He had a bruise the size of Texas.' Well, I thought it'd be odd to say that in Fuhen's case when he's in Japan, so I used _Honshu_ instead.

_Tadaima/Okaerinasai_ – This is said every time you come home, and someone must give the proper response. Kyou is very young, and okaerinasai is a long-ass thing to say, so naturally he butchers it to 'kaenathai' – with 'th' representing as lisped 's'.

_Nii-tan_ – most children like to speak in diminutive language, and in Japanese this occurs by adding the suffix '-chan' to nearly everything applicable. However a small child has trouble saying 'ch', and so this is mispronounced as a 't'; making '-chan' into '-tan'.

_Itadakimasu_ – A short prayer said before eating.

_Aka-kun_ – This is a bad nickname kids use for Fuhen; it has a double meaning. Aka means 'red', so they are making a reference to Fuhen's hair color. But Aka can also mean 'dirt' or 'filth', and they are also using it in this sense, making it a rather derogatory nickname. To top it off, '-kun' is a common suffix for a male friend, but if used on someone who isn't a friend it is condescending and insulting. All around, it is a very nasty way to address Fuhen and hurt his feelings.

_Okkanai-san_ – In case y'all don't remember, Fuhen and Kyoumu are actually half brothers. Okkanai is the last name of Kyoumu's father, who is Fuhen's stepfather. I couldn't picture Fuhen calling his stepfather 'Dad', and so he addresses him respectfully by his last name. '-san' is an honorific suffix denoting respect.

**Fun at the Burger-Bomb:** This scene is in fact based on a real life experience with my cousins, which I promised them I'd write about one day. So here it is. Please forgive the retardation.

– _La Loba_

_Italics_ – flashback

**WARNING**: Likely **OOC**, and **AU**, please forgive. This story in general deals with abuse and has some graphic violence. Thus the rating PG-13. If that kind of thing offends you, or you don't like it, then don't read this story. You have been warned.

* * *

**Sanctum**

By:_La Loba de Mibu_

Chapter 9: Making Ground

"Man, I'm starving!" Freddy whined as he looked into the empty refrigerator, "Why isn't there ever any food in this place?"

"Whatta ya talkin' about," Todd answered, snagging a fly out of midair with his tongue, "There's plenty a food 'round here."

"Yea, well your tastes ain't exactly gourmet, Toad," Lance grimaced as he watched him swallow another fly from where he sat at the rickety table.

Suddenly the silent stale air of the brotherhood boarding house emitted a strange ripping sound and an indigo-black swirling light filled the room the boys were lazing in.

"Did someone mention gourmet?" Cambrant asked as she stepped out of the portal and into the dusty room; the portal closed loudly behind her.

For a moment, Fred, Todd, and Lance stared in shocked unison at the girl who had just appeared in the room. She was a bit taller than average, with long raven hair and sharp green eyes rimmed with dark makeup. She wore a purple shirt, with striped sleeves, a dark olive khaki skirt over ragged, torn black leggings, and old dirty black leather boots.

"Where the hell did you come from?" asked Lance, getting up from the table so the newcomer wasn't looking down at him.

"I'll ask ze questions 'ere. Now, where might I find Mystique?" Cambrant replied in a bored tone, as she looked around the filthy room with in obvious disgust.

"You know, where I come from it's rude to barge inta somebody's house without permission," Todd spoke up, but shrank back nervously when the strange girl gave him a menacingly look.

"And where I come from, we eat annoying little frogs who don't know 'ow to answer questions!" she retorted with a feral grin.

"Mystique ain't here, and hasn't been here for a while. No tellin' when she's comin' back," Pietro entered the room suddenly, dashing right up to the intruder so they were face to face, talking fast and smooth as always, with a charming if not fake smile, "But as the _leader_ of this brotherhood, maybe _I_ can help ya out."

"Fine. I want you to take me to Magneto," Cambrant said straight and to the point.

Pietro laughed, "So it's the old man your after. Well, sorry to disappoint you!"

With that he turned and dashed out of the room, the other mutants laughing as Cambrant coughed and waved away the dust cloud he kicked up in front of her. That is until Pietro cried out suddenly and fell to the floor across the open doorway.

"Whoah! Hey! What the—!" Pietro grumble and strained as he tried to get up, before suddenly crying out as a sharp pain ran up both his legs.

The others watched in silent shock as Cambrant dusted off her clothes a bit, making a noise of disgust, before walking over calmly to the white-haired boy on the floor. Grabbing his shirt in a fist, she turned him around to face her, and shoved a hand in front of his face; the fingertips of all five of her fingers glowing with the same strange light she had made her entrance with.

"See zis?" she asked as if talking to a child, waving her hand a bit to make sure he got it.

Pietro looked at her nervously.

"See zat?" she grabbed his hair and moved his head so he could look down at his legs.

Midway between his knees and ankles there was a tight ring of light matching the color of the girl's glowing fingertips. Before he could ask anything, she shoved her hand in front of his face again.

"Now, feel _zis_?" she punctuated her last word by draw the glowing fingers of her hand together as if she were squeezing something, smiling manically when Pietro started screaming in pain and fear.

"Stop! Ow! STOP!" he gasped when he saw her extend her fingers once more and the horrible pressure around his legs suddenly released. The crazy bitch pulled his head back again so he was looking her in the eye now; and he didn't like the feral gleam in those green orbs one bit.

"Did you know zat if I were to completely close a portal around something I could snap it right off?" she squeezed her hand again, just to make her point, "Now, let's try zis again, shall we? Take. Me. To. Magneto."

* * *

Kurt was balanced perfectly on the railing of the balcony, contemplating the puffy cumulous clouds of the beautiful late afternoon summer sky sullenly. It had not been an hour since he had comeback from the headmaster's office, after having a long talk with the professor. He knew everything now; absolutely everything. Kurt's tail thrashed in annoyance. 

He had not wanted to have to share all the gruesome details of his time in the lab with the Professor and other X-men because he was ashamed and embarrassed about most of them; and thought that they would be too. And although the Professor was adamant about him and the others being only proud of Kurt and grateful that he was able to survive that awful place, Kurt still hadn't wanted any of them to know. It was something he would have liked to take to his grave. At least the Professor swore that the conversation would never leave the walls of his office, and that he would never have to speak of it again, for which he was thankful. He had embarrassed himself enough as it was, breaking down in the middle of it all. He absently rubbed at the fur on his cheeks, matted from salty tears.

There was a knock at the door, but Kurt quickly decided that he wasn't going to move from his spot, so hopefully whoever it was would go away if he didn't answer. He never had much luck with that kind of thing though, because as expected, the door opened quietly. After many long moments, of listening and waiting, Kurt was greeted with nothing but silence. But the lack of noise was a clue unto itself; the only person he knew who could move without making a sound was Fuhen. Unfortunately, he was probably the last person Kurt wanted to deal with right now. Kurt's tail twitched in aggravation.

After five minutes of ignoring the presence a few feet behind him, Kurt heard a soft sigh, followed by more silence and Fuhen suddenly entered his peripheral vision when he leaned back against the balcony rail, facing the room. By now Kurt's tail was writhing in constant agitation.

"That thing is the clearest mood indicator I've ever seen," Fuhen said quietly, referring to Kurt's restless appendage.

"Ha, ha," Kurt responded slowly in monotone without an ounce of warmth.

"I …ah, heard you had a rong morning in the Professor's office," the redhead ventured.

"Hmph, thanks to you," Kurt answered coolly.

"I didn't know you hadn't tord them. I mentioned something to Wolverine that day in the Danger Room when he was yelling at you. I was just trying to stand up for you," the older boy explained in his usual quiet and annoyingly rational baritone.

Kurt turned his head slightly so he could see him better. The admission caught him slightly off guard. This was a guy he had known for only a few months, during most of which, the Japanese boy made it seem as if he wanted nothing to do with Kurt. It was only towards the end that Kurt had been beginning to melt through the layers of ice the young man had around him. And although Kurt found him utterly irritating at times, he had developed a firm respect for the other mutant, even though befriending him seemed an impossible task. But during the months that they thought Fuhen dead, Kurt had come to learn part of the reason why the redhead was so standoffish through Kyoumu.

The little boy had revealed to Kurt in long conversations during his sleepless nights, that Fuhen had never really had a friend, _ever_. He had been home-schooled all through elementary school, and then outcast once he started public school because his physical mutations made him stand out too much from the other kids. Teachers and other adults looked down on him, and shunned him, labeling him a rebel problem child no matter what his behavior, just because of his physical appearance. The young man had been fighting adversity all his life in Japan, before landing in that Laboratory with his brother.

Kurt had been utterly surprised and dismayed to learn these things about the antisocial redhead he had been imprisoned next to for several months. He knew better than most how hard it was to look different, and not be accepted because of it. This new knowledge had made him wish he had tried harder to befriend the secretly lonely boy before he died.

But now as he watched Fuhen scratch idly at an invisible speck on the balcony rail, a nervous gesture he often saw mirrored in the younger of the brothers, Kurt realized he might already have.

"Vell, I guess I can't begrudge you for trying to be a good friend," he finally replied, and couldn't hide a grin when Fuhen glanced at him, surprise coloring those ruby eyes for a moment. But when Fuhen turned away to scratch at the back of his neck in a way most like a certain little nervous blonde, Kurt had to laugh.

"Nani?" Fuhen asked grumpily. (What?)

"Nothing, you just sort of reminded me of Kyoumu for a second," he chuckled again when Fuhen raised an auburn brow.

They were quiet for a moment, each drifting into his own thoughts as a warm summer breeze rustled their clothes and hair. Finally Kurt spoke up.

"Where's Kyoumu?" he asked glancing at the redhead.

"With Ana-chan," he answered gesturing toward the pond in the green expanse of garden below the balcony.

Kurt looked off into the distance and sure enough he saw the small shapes of the pair of mutants at the pond's edge. It looked like they were playing hide 'n seek. A small smile crept over Kurt's lips as he watched Anastasia peek over some fronds and tug at Kyoumu hair as he walked by. The little one turned around and immediately parted the fronds, but the girl was no longer there. He looked around confused, and Kurt shared in his confusion for a moment. Suddenly they could hear one of Kyoumu's shrieks carried on the wind.

He squinted and when he realized what had happened Kurt couldn't help but laugh. Anastasia had backed up into the water and camouflaged just as she did with the greenery around her daily; he hadn't known she could do that. From this distance it was very hard to see her; she looked like she had melted into the water, and only when she moved could Kurt tell her apart from her damp surroundings. While Kyoumu was confused, she poked her head above the water and splashed the young boy; and the two were now engaged in splashing war.

Fuhen watched the activities of the other two mutants quietly beside Kurt. Glancing surreptitiously at Kurt, noticing the way he was smiling as his golden eyes tracked the young girl in particular. He looked away with a frown, and turned his ruby eyes back towards the pond in order to catch sight of Anastasia and Kyou waving at them. He lifted a hand briefly in acknowledgement.

"Hey!" Kurt called waving a bit more enthusiastically; still smiling widely as he watched the thoroughly soaked mutants walk back up the path towards the mansion, probably to get changed. For a few moments there was silence again, then Fuhen spoke up.

"Oi, I wanted to ask you something," Fuhen paused briefly, and then continued without tact or preamble, "Do you rike Ana-chan?"

The question threw Kurt completely off-balance, quite literally. When he whipped around in surprise to face Fuhen, Kurt lost his balance and felt himself tumble over the balcony rail. Just as he concentrated his energy to teleport, Kurt felt something grab the back of his shirt.

It was Fuhen, who had reacted quickly to Kurt's teetering form and tried to grab hold of the teenager to keep him from tumbling to his death, not knowing that Kurt was in the midst of a teleport. One instant he was pulling the fuzzy elf over the edge by the back of his shirt, the next he was teetering backwards himself as the weight that would have counteracted the force of his pulling suddenly vanished. The redhead fell gracelessly on his rump with Kurt's shirt still in hand just as the teleporter reappeared safely on the balcony.

Fuhen looked at the shirt in his hand then up at the blue teen who was bent over laughing. Fuhen glared as he threw Kurt's balled up shirt at his head, but his lips were twitching in a suspicious manner. Kurt caught the piece of clothing as it hit him in the face and slipped it back over his head.

"Whoo! Now _zat_ was funny. Ve should do zat for Kyou sometime. He'd die," Kurt said amicably as he held out his hand to help Fuhen up off the floor. The older teen rolled his eyes, but took Kurt's offered hand.

"I'd rather not, thanks," Fuhen replied dryly, not failing to notice how Kurt ignored his question, but decided to let it slide; for the moment.

"Okay, okay. Hey!" Kurt suddenly brighten up, "Let's go to Burger-Bomb for dinner!"

Silence met Kurt's suggestion for a moment, before Fuhen asked warily, "Are you serious?"

"Ja! You haven't enjoyed life 'till you try a Burger-Bomb burger! C'mon let's go; you haven't left ze mansion since you got here. Ve should get out for a while," Kurt said as he walked back into his room and started looking for something in the mess on his dresser.

"Demo, Kurt . . . How are we gonna get in?" Fuhen asked, his brow creased in confusion. (But, Kurt . . .)

"Vell, through ze front door of course!" Kurt replied exasperated, mumbling to himself in German as he abandoned his search on the dresser top, and opened the first drawer to rummage through its contents.

"Through the front door?" Fuhen asked incredulously.

"Mhmm," Kurt replied absently.

"We're just going to waltz right in?" the redhead asked doubtfully.

"Ja," Kurt closed the drawer he was looking in with a soft 'hnn,' and opened the one next to it.

"Rooking rike _this_?" Fuhen rose a brow skeptically.

"AHA! Zere you are!" Kurt's sudden triumphant cry startled Fuhen, and when he turned around Fuhen saw that Kurt was slipping on what looked to be a large wrist watch.

"Nice watch," Fuhen commented.

"Looks like one doesn't it? But ven I push zis button . . ." Kurt pushed the button on his image inducer and the furless, tailess, five fingered image of himself flickered into place. He looked up a Fuhen, to see the redhead's studying him with raised eyebrows.

"_Sugoi_," he said quietly after a while. (_Cool_.)

"Man," Kurt rolled his now normal looking dark eyes, "Vas kind of reaction vas zat? I mean, couldn't you have at least flinched or something?"

Fuhen snorted.

"You're hopeless," Kurt grumbled, before heading out of the room, "C'mon let's get going."

"What about me? I can't go out rike this. I need some shades, or something," Fuhen insisted.

"Vas are you talking about? You don't need to hide any— Oh yea," Kurt realized mid-sentence as Fuhen pointed to his eyes, that they were a rather extraordinary shade of red, "Actually, I don't zink you even need those. I mean, people vear crazy color contacts all ze time."

"But—" Fuhen was about to continue protesting, but Kurt grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door.

"But nothing! You look fine. _Trust_ me! Zey make ya look like a punk, goth, rocker, person . . . or maybe a . . . a . . . "

"A rebel," Fuhen murmured very quietly, his eyes dark and distant for a moment.

"Vas?" Kurt paused for a minute, not having really heard his mumble.

"Let go," Fuhen answered without missing a beat, gesturing to the arm Kurt was still pulling him by.

"Oh, sorry sorry!" Kurt grinned, certain that wasn't what the redhead had originally said, but not wanting to insist and foul the mood, "Hey lemme just pop into ze rec room and see if anybody else vants to come. Meet me in ze foyer, kay?"

With that the furry teen disappeared in a cloud of smoke and left the young Japanese man walking down the hall alone. He contemplated for a second going to get Kyoumu, but then recalled vividly what had happened the last time he and his brother had gone out to get some food.

* * *

_It was a muggy Friday afternoon and thirteen year old Fuhen had just gotten out of school early again. It had been another hellish day, full of jeers and even a fist fight in 7__th__ period; which had lead to his current situation of walking home early with a bruise the size of Honshu on his left cheek among other wounds. Fuhen smirked as much as his split lip would allow, thinking on the girly shriek Yamashita-kun had emitted when he broke the little bastard's nose. _

_It was horridly humid, and Fuhen was not looking forward to having to make dinner for himself and Kyoumu in the stuffy kitchen of their small house. On weekends, dinner was his responsibility as his parents disappeared and left them alone in the house most of the day. But it was for the best, as that way, he and Kyou were free of the worry and torment usually associated with their parents, even if it meant he had to take on a little bit more responsibility than a normal kid his age would have to worry about. He reached is home, taking off his shoes as he entered, then heading upstairs to his room. _

"_Tadaima," he said absently as he opened his room door. (I'm home.)_

_Kyoumu was sprawled on the futon with dozens upon dozens of Fuhen's action figures spread all around him. Fuhen sighed wearily at the mess, as the two and half year old looked up cheerfully. _

"_Kaenathai!" the toddler cheerfully butchered the proper response, before crying out in surprise at his older brother's face, "Nii-tan!" (Welcome home! ... Brother!)_

"_Don't worry, I'm fine. It's just a scratch, ow!" he sat on the futon and hissed when Kyou started poking at his bruised face. _

_He took hold of the chubby prodding hands and met the amethyst eyes of his baby brother, watching as the narrow catlike slits suddenly dilated, and a strange dreamlike feeling overcame Fuhen. The young teen blinked and it was over, but now Kyoumu's eyes were watering as he began to whimper._

"_Kyou-kun? What's the matter?" Fuhen was puzzled by his brother's sudden sadness._

"_Mean kiths give you boo-boo!" the little blonde managed to say before he began sobbing in earnest. _

"_No Kyou-kun, it's okay. Please, don't cry," he sighed, hugging the crying child close to him. _

_He didn't understand how his brother always knew these things, but he did. Whenever Fuhen had a particularly bad day, whenever someone said something especially scathing, whenever he was very deliberately left out of a group activity, whenever someone picked a fight with him, even if he didn't come home with any obvious bruises, Kyoumu knew. It had frightened him a bit at first, but Fuhen had eventually grown used to the fact that as soon as he looked into those peculiar violet eyes on any bad day, Kyoumu would start to cry. _

_Thinking back on the unfairness of the day as his little brother wailed in his arms made Fuhen's own throat constrict and his eyes prickle with the emotions he been holding in all day. But before the tears could take a hold of him, he clamped down on them fiercely. Kyoumu could cry enough for the both of them anyway. He suddenly got an idea and brightened up immediately._

"_Hey, I have an idea!" he said, wiping the wetness off Kyou's chubby cheeks, "Let's go out to eat tonight. Would you like that?"_

"_Out?" Kyoumu asked rubbing at his eyes a bit. _

"_Yea, we'll go to the ramen shop for dinner tonight, okay? Let's wash up before we leave," Fuhen got up and lifted the baby with him. _

_Grabbing some towels he was almost out the door when Kyoumu made a distressed sound and Fuhen obediently turned around with a roll of his eyes and grabbed a plastic blue bath toy of a sealpup before heading down the hall to the bathroom. Half an hour and a splash war later, the two came back to the room clean and wrapped in towels. After dressing them, Fuhen went into his closet and pulled out a jar from way in the back under a pile of junk. It was full of the money; everyday, Fuhen would save the 250 yen his stepfather gave him for lunch, and discreetly pack a small bento of whatever was lying around the house that morning instead. _

_He would put the money in the jar, and in that way, they would have emergency cash for things like first aid supplies, medicine, or whatever they needed. When Kyoumu was younger, he had often used it to buy the infant diapers and baby formula or food. Now that the child was older, and didn't need diapers except at night, it was safe to splurge a bit on take out every now and then. And so Fuhen pocketed 800 yen, for the evening's ramen, and headed down the stairs and out of the house with his brother in tow. A short ten-minute walk and they were at the neighborhood ramen stand._

"_Irasshaimase," the vendor called as he looked up from the counter, but his smile became a little strained when he recognized his customer's shock of red hair, "Ahh, Shinkuu-kun, what can I get you today?" (Welcome)_

"_Two shouyu ramen please," Fuhen answered and waited for the two bowls, before opting to sit at one of the small tables situated just outside the stand. (Soy sauce ramen)_

"_Itadakimasu," the siblings said quietly in unison before Fuhen split their chopsticks and they began their meal. (Thanks for the meal.)_

_As usual, the brothers laughed and fooled around as they ate their meal in the early evening sun. Kyoumu would make a pig face by lifting the tip of his nose, and Fuhen would snort his noodles accidentally as he laughed. For which the older boy retaliated by stealing some of the chicken from his younger brother's bowl. It was a pleasant outing and they were having fun, until another set of unexpected and most unwelcome customers arrived._

_Two of Fuhen's classmates lived in the same neighborhood, and it should have occurred to him that he might come across them at the popular ramen stand. But he was so eager to relax for a while and forget about his stressful day that it didn't cross his mind. He groaned and hunched over his bowl in an effort to avoid eye contact. He wasn't afraid of those punks, but he also wasn't in the mood for another confrontation, especially not outside school, where there was less of a chance of someone breaking up a fight before somebody ended up unconscious; and he had Kyoumu with him. _

_But of course, his auburn hair always made him stick out like a sore thumb, and with his blonde brother sitting next to him, he might as well have had a neon sign pointing out his presence. _

"_Hey, Aka-kun!" one of the boys jeered at him, and Fuhen heard their footsteps approaching. _

_Deciding their meal was now over, Fuhen quickly stood from the table, eyes glued to the ground, and headed over to the stand to pay his bill, his mood thoroughly soured. Unfortunately the two jerks decided to block his path. He looked up from the ground with a fierce glare._

"_Please move," he all but growled._

"_Hey Aka-kun, I heard ya might be expelled for breaking Yamashita-kun's nose today," one of the boys said with mock concern, then laughed out loud with his buddy._

"_MOVE! Or I'll give ya one to match!" Fuhen roared as he pushed past them roughly, stalking over to the stand. _

_He ignored the distasteful look the vendor was giving him, having obviously overheard what his classmates had said, as well as his own threat. It just wasn't his day. He was about to hand the money to the vendor when a cry from Kyoumu made him turn around sharply. One of his classmates was pulling the toddler by the ear as he examined his golden head, making some rude remark about odd coloring running in the family. _

"_Oi! Get off him!" Fuhen snarled and quickly ran to aid his baby brother, not yet having paid the vendor._

_Then all hell broke loose. Kyoumu kicked hard at the boy's knee to get him to let go, which he did with a loud curse. But then he grabbed the little boy by the arm and turned the child around to face him, meeting with a dilated pair of violets eyes for all of three seconds before reeling backwards with a terrified shriek. Being let go so suddenly, Kyoumu lost his balance and toppled off the chair onto the ground, thankfully not too far below. _

_Horrified at his friend's sudden reaction, the other bully turned on the frighten child and shouted menacingly, "Oi! Brat! What'd you do to him!"_

_Kyoumu gave a frightened cry, and scrambling to his feet, took off running down the street._

"_Kyoumu!" Fuhen shouted and took off after his brother, only to be grabbed by the kid that had frighten his brother away; growling Fuhen whipped around and punched the kid square in the jaw, ignoring the pain in his own hand and going after his brother. _

"_Oi! Oi! Oi! Shinkuu you little rebel! Come back here and pay! THIEF!" the vendor's cries were swept away by the wind as he ran from the chaos behind him._

"_Kyoumu!" he called after he lost sight of the tiny blonde around a corner. _

_He didn't think the toddler could outrun him, so he must have hidden himself. Sure enough, he found him nearby whimpering in a narrow alley between two houses. Sighing, he picked up the child and whispered comforting words to him as he made his way home through the maze of streets in their neighborhood. It only took a few more minutes for them to reach their door, and Fuhen couldn't help but groan as he opened it and heard the voices of his parents' insides. He just couldn't win one today._

_He slipped inside as quietly as possible hushing his brother hastily as he took off their shoes. He had just made it to the stairs when he was grabbed gruffly by a shoulder and turned around so fast he almost dropped Kyou._

"_Fuhen!" his stepfather shouted his name in fury, shaking him roughly with every word he uttered, "How dare you disgrace this family! The Yamashitas are threatening to sue! And your school is seriously considering expelling you. And if that weren't shameful enough, you have to become a delinquent thief as well!"_

_Fuhen had only been trying to keep a hold of his brother through the shaking, not really paying attention to the furious man's rant until that last comment. His brother squealed suddenly and he saw his mother was beside him, taking the now kicking and screaming child from him. He tried to get him back, but quickly ceased all movement when his stepfather's grasp on his shoulder became painfully tight._

"_Itai! Kaa-chan matte . . . Okkanai-san, I . . . thief? What are you—" another rough shake cut him off. (Ow! Mommy wait . . .)_

"_Don't play stupid! Tanaka-san just phoned saying you ripped two bowls off him just now!"_

_Fuhen's eyes widened and he gasped looking down at his right hand where he was still clenching the money he had been about to pay the vendor before the chaos broke out in front of the shop and he ran off after Kyoumu. He panicked now, confusion clouding his mind. He hadn't meant to leave without paying. Hadn't Tanaka-san seen what happened with those two boys? Fuhen unclenched his hand and offered the money to his stepfather slightly dazed. _

"_I-I didn't mean to, honest. It was an accident! See? I still have the money right—" Fuhen wasn't able to finish his sentence before he was smacked hard across his already bruised face. He was distantly aware of Kyoumu's cries increasing in volume, as he staggered back from the blow._

"_Where did you get this money? Did you steal this, too?" Okkanai fumed, as he unbuckled his belt, "I will not have any delinquent rebels in my household!" _

_With that the man tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder and unleashed his fury on the 13 year old, whipping him with the buckled side of his belt mercilessly, ignoring the boy's anguished cries._

"_Itai! Yamette! Itai! Itai! Onegai!" Fuhen begged, covering his head with his free arm and trying futilely to squirm out of the man's grasp. (Ow! Stop! Ow! Ow! Please!)_

_Kyoumu was screaming so loudly and without pause, that he was practically blue in the face. The toddler squirmed violently and kicked incessantly in his mother's grasp trying to escape. _

"_Kyoumu-kun! Behave!" she scolded in annoyance at the child's antics, before addressing her husband in a more timid tone, "Anata, please, isn't that enough?" (Dear)_

_Okkanai struck his redhead stepson once more before taking hold of his bruised face painfully, and forcing the boy to look at him. His expression was pained, and although his eyes were watering, the boy's face was dry. It pissed him off, and so he squeezed the boy's cheeks harder and pulled his face close._

"_You're not to leave this house for a month and a half, except to go to school. Hmph, if you're not expelled that is. Now you go to your room. I don't want to see hide nor hair of you or your brother for the rest of the night," with that he struck the boy one last time across the bruised side of his face so hard he fell to the floor. _

_Fuhen bit back a sob as he landed on the floor hard, adding bruised knees to accompany the lovely array that had to be forming along his back. He got up on shaky feet and quickly retrieved his seizing brother from his mother's arms. The child stopped squirming and immediately latched his arms around Fuhen tightly, burying his face into the redhead's shoulder. The older boy went up the stairs as quickly as his aching body would allow, and traveled the short distance down the hall. When he entered his room, he locked the door with a trembling hand, and sagged sideways against the cool wood. _

_He regretted the action immediately as it caused the ache in his shoulder to flare angrily. He pushed off the door and stumbled to the futon he never got to put away earlier, kneeling and settling Kyoumu down on it. The little blonde was sniffling, but was for the most part quiet now, and Fuhen was glad of it. He didn't have the strength to offer his brother any comfort when he so ached for it himself. Moving onto the bedding next to him, Fuhen lay down so that he could rest on the side of his uninjured shoulder. _

_Here finally, in the quiet dark of his room, he let the tears fall. They came silently at first, but soon his breath was hitching, and then he couldn't help the pathetic sounds coming from his throat. And when he felt the warmth of his little brother settle close to his chest, and those little hands bunch in the front of his shirt, he couldn't stop himself from pulling the child close and curling into a fetal ball around him, as he sobbed with all his might until he exhausted himself into sleep._

* * *

Laughter and voices broke Fuhen out of his dark reverie, and he blinked as he realized he had arrived at the mansion's foyer. He looked down the hall to see Kurt had gathered quite a group. Scott, Jean, Rogue, Kitty, Bobby, and Tabitha were coming up the hall with Kurt. Fuhen wondered if it would be too impolite to back out now. 

"Sorry, Fuhen. Have you been vaiting long?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, these girls all decided to powder there noses at the last minute, ow!" Bobby joked and was promptly smacked on the head by Kitty, Rogue and Tabitha.

"Hey, don't kill each other before we even get there! C'mon let's take the van," Scott said herding his teammates out the door, ignoring the mocking replies of 'yes, mother'.

Fuhen hesitated to follow for a moment, but his choice was made for him when Kurt and Tabitha stepped on either side of him and pulled him along toward the door.

"Don't ya even think about it, Red!" Tabitha warned.

"Ja, it's too late to back out now!" Kurt added with a toothy grin.

Fuhen allowed himself to be pulled out the door with a long suffering sigh, but extricated himself from the excited teens' grasps as the got into the van. Fuhen sat in the corner of the back seat with Kurt and Tabitha. Rogue, Kitty, and Bobby were in the middle seat, and Scott and Jean were at the head. The conversation was lively about him, but he remained silent, not comfortable enough to contribute anything.

"Hey, Fuhen! They have Burger-Bomb in Japan?" Bobby asked him a direct question abruptly, catching the redhead by surprise. He turned away from the window to glance at the group of faces now waiting expectantly for an answer.

"Ano . . . not when I was there last," he said quietly. (Umm)

"But they had similar joints didn't they?" Tabitha piped up.

Fuhen merely nodded in response, looking away from all the eyes on him, not very comfortable with being the center of attention. He prayed the conversation would turn away from him, but of course he never had any such luck.

"So ah . . ." Kitty began, still a bit nervous and awkward around the newcomer, "Is this like your first time in the states?"

Fuhen contemplated ignoring the question, but then reasoned it wouldn't be the wisest way to get along with a car full of strangers. So he went with the next best thing, monosyllabic answers.

"No," he answered curtly, but not quite rudely.

"Cool, you've come here on vacation before?" Bobby piped up turning in his seat.

"Not exactly," he answered but didn't elaborate.

"Vait . . . so zen, you've lived here before?" Kurt inquired.

"Yes," Fuhen nodded.

"Blue, how come you don't already know this? What kinda friendship is that, huh?" Tabitha said as she poked Kurt in the side.

"Vell . . . stop zat tickles!" Kurt shrugged before dissolving into laughter and batting the girl's hands away.

"Where'd ya live?" Rogue was the one who spoke this time, then she addressed the pair having a tickle war, "Would y'all grow up!"

Fuhen blinked and looked up at the girl; he'd never actually spoken to her except in passing greetings in the halls. But Kyoumu said she was nice, in an annoying kind of way; although the annoying bit was only because his brother was always bantering with her.

"Eeto . . . Hawaii," he answered when the two next to him settled down. (Uhh . . .)

"Hawaii? You know, Scott has a brother in Hawaii," Jean added conversationally from the front, "So he gets to visit paradise every time we have long vacations. So that's how you know English so well. Did you live there long?"

Fuhen wondered if interrogations were a regular part of 'getting acquainted.' It struck him quite suddenly that this was the longest conversation he'd had with a group of strangers that didn't dissolve into violence in years.

Biting back a sigh he replied, "Until I was ten."

"Zen your family moved back to Japan?" Kurt assumed, not failing to notice how Fuhen brow creased at the mention of Japan, and the way the corners of his mouth turned down slightly.

"Yea," Fuhen turned to look back out the window hoping then wouldn't ask anything else about his life after that point.

"Cool, so you like have lived in two amazing places. Was growing up in Japan really different from Hawaii?" Kitty asked innocently. Fuhen tensed slightly and glared out the window.

"_Extremely_," his voice was cold when he answered.

The others finally perceiving that they were begin to trespass on dangerous territory, quickly changed the subject. A small sarcastic and bitter voice inside of Fuhen's mind whispered congratulations for him succeeding once again in pushing away the only group of people that had ever tried to befriend him. Closing his eyes, Fuhen sighed almost imperceptivity and told that voice to shut up.

"Alright! We're here, everybody out!" Scott declared suddenly as he parked the vehicle and shut off the engine.

The X-men quickly piled out of the van and headed into the restaurant in a loud boisterous group. Fuhen was the last out of the car, and found himself at a bit at a loss now that it came to going into the place. It had been years since he even saw a hamburger or a French fry, and those foods now felt like something alien. It was a strange sensation. Rogue and Kurt had lagged behind the big group and seemed to be waiting for the older teen. When it became clear that, he wasn't moving, Kurt approached him.

"Hey, you alright?" Kurt asked quietly, placing a hand on Fuhen's tense shoulder, "If you're not feeling vell, I'll just pick up my order to go and drive back vith you—"

"It's been more than shix years . . ." Fuhen interrupted Kurt but then trailed off looking at the burger joint.

"Since vas?" Kurt asked quietly, although he suspected the answer.

"Shince . . . shince I had a hamburger," Fuhen replied absently, as if only having realized it himself in that instance.

Kurt didn't know what to say to that, but thankfully he didn't have to think of anything, as Rogue came up behind him and spoke up instead.

"Well, then you'd be crazy to miss this opportunity. C'mon, let's git going. And for the record, no one's gonna bite ya for speaking up from time to time," she said in a somewhat scolding tone that held no pity or sympathy.

Fuhen blinked and nodded, following the two siblings into the restaurant. A few minutes later the students of the Xavier Institute were seated in the back of the restaurant at one of the largest booths, all laughing and teasing each other as they ate. Well, almost all of them.

"Whassamatter, Red? Ya allergic to conversation? Speak up a little!" Tabitha insisted waving a half eaten burger in front of the Japanese youth from where she sat across from him.

"Don't be so pushy Tabitha. You can talk if you feel it, Fuhen, or not if you don't," Jean assured him with a smile from where she sat next to Scott at the end of the circular booth.

The older teen was much too preoccupied with enjoy his burger to do more than nod absently and make a non-committal response around a mouthful. He couldn't remember a hamburger ever tasting so good.

"So like, how's the food?" Kitty asked just as the thought crossed his mind.

"_Delicious_," he stressed the word around another mouthful, taking a sip of soda.

"Hey, vas is zis here?" Kurt asked from beside him as he picked up a small plastic bag, "You bought a toy?"

"Hmm," Fuhen said as he swallowed, and shrugged, "It's for Kyou."

"You're so responsible. Always looking after and thinking about him," Rogue said with a hint of a smile, before continuing to munch on her French fries with an ungloved hand. She always removed one glove while eating finger food, in order to keep it from getting dirty.

Fuhen felt a strange warmth wash across his face, and took a big bite of his hamburger to hide what he suspected was a blush, looking down at the table.

"Oh! Lemme see that!" Bobby demanded, snatching the plastic bag out of Kurt's hands, "Oh cool! It is that!"

"What?" Tabitha tried to get a better look at the object in the boy's hands.

"It's a Build-A-Dino!" he exclaimed excitedly, opening the package without asking permission and dumping the contents on the table.

"Bobby! That wasn't yours! Honestly, what are you, two?" Scott reprimanded his younger teammate.

"Doesn't matter now," Fuhen said with a shrug, and watched the blonde teen curiously as he began assembling the pieces.

"Oh yea! Like, I remember these! My cousins used to have 'em. I never saw like much of a point in them though," Kitty stated as the group watched Bobby struggle to piece together the dino.

"That's cuz you're such a girl Kitty!" Tabitha teased, "Give it here! You're doing it wrong!"

The most exuberant of the new recruits grabbed the nearly finished dinosaur skeleton from the boy beside her and finished putting it together. Bobby huffed in annoyance, but then beat the table to create a drum roll just as Tabitha cried out a loud 'ta-daa'.

"Ok, you two have had way too much soda," Rogue declared, watching unimpressed as Bobby grabbed the dino and started to make it prance around the table through the maze of fries, burgers, and drinks.

"I am Reptar, hear me roar!" Bobby suddenly declared, sending the table into a snort-fest.

"Like, what the heck was that?" Kitty asked through her giggles.

"I haven't seen Rugrats in forever," Jean declared mirthfully.

Kurt turned to Fuhen with a raised brow, and the Japanese boy merely shrugged and shook his head. Neither of them knew what the others were talking about. Bobby suddenly decided the dino was going to attack an unsuspecting pile of fries and started growling loudly.

"Bobby, quiet down. People are starting to stare," Scott warned, although it wasn't very effective having come out as a chuckle.

The plastic dinosaur skeleton had abandoned its campaign against the fries, and hopped across the table to attack a carton of chicken nuggets when its left arm suddenly fell off. The teens all froze momentarily.

"Aww, Frosty! You broke it!" Tabitha cried in dismay.

"Nuh-uh! See?" Bobby replied hastily.

He quickly reattached the arm and continued his dino hop across the table when the right leg came loose and fell off, setting off a round of snickers from his companions. Blinking at the newest fallen limb, a light bulb suddenly turned above his head, and the blonde teen burst into a loud and obnoxious tune jiggling the dino around in a little dance.

"_Oh goodness! Oh gracious! This dance does bodily harm! Will I lose a leg, or will I lose an arm?"_ he sang the tune in an opera voice, the tailbone of the thing falling off almost as soon as he finished.

The first one to react was Fuhen, who had unfortunately decided to take a sip of his drink in the instant the younger teen improvised his little song, and was now busy snorting his soda as he burst into laughter. The others at the table were momentarily shocked, having never heard the young man laugh before in all the weeks that he had been with them at the institute. Kurt hastily passed the napkins to his ailing companion unable to hold back the laughter bubbling up his own throat. Tabitha was howling as he pounded the table. Scott gave a loud guffaw, and beside him Jean valiantly tried to hold back her laughter behind her hands. Kitty was holding her sides; her silent laughter making her face red, while beside her, Rogue had rested her forehead on her arm in an attempt to hide her sniggering.

The teens eventually calmed down enough to start picking up their trays and disposing of their garbage and leftovers. They filed out of the restaurant still giggling somewhat. And as they headed out toward the car, Bobby turned to Fuhen and gave him back the dinosaur and its detached pieces with an unapologetic grin; and the redhead couldn't help a very small grin of his own.

This had been fun. The thought was almost alien to him. He couldn't remember the last time he thought that about an outing with people other than his little brother. He looked down at the toy in his hand and chuckled a bit. Scott turned on the engine as everyone piled into the van. Then as fate would have it, just before he was about to enter the vehicle, he dropped one of the toy's pieces. Rogue who was standing behind him, and had yet to replace her glove, bent down at the same moment as Fuhen to pick it up. Their hands brushed.

It was the strangest sensation in world for Rogue. As she came in contact with another human's skin and didn't feel the usual pull of her power draining them. In fact she felt something quite the opposite of pull. It was like someone had managed to force together two magnets of the same polarity. And in that moment a white flash of light blinded her, and she cried out as she felt herself being thrown back by the force of the repulsion.

Rogue grunted as someone caught her, recognizing Kurt's form steadying her. She looked up at the young man she had just touched in time to see a blinding white ring of light burst forth from him and spread rapidly like a shockwave in all directions. Everything it touched seemed to extinguish. Kurt's holowatch fritzed and the image dissipated. Cries were heard from the restaurant as the power went out inside. The X-van's engine cut out with a loud moan. All street lamps as far as they could see suddenly flickered and went out.

And when the ring of light disappeared from their field of vision, the group turned to see Fuhen collapse to the ground as if suddenly crushed by the weight of an anvil.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, I know. Cliffhangers are evil. Well, please review and tell me your opinions. 

—La Loba


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